


Queen of Diamonds

by Natural_Logarhythm



Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, F/M, Musical References, Romance, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 82,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natural_Logarhythm/pseuds/Natural_Logarhythm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Jafar was too late finding the ‘Diamond in the Rough?’ An AU where Aladdin and Jasmine make good their escape, and this time Jasmine is the one doing the lying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2 of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, this is a ‘What if?’ AU. It was interesting to me that in the movie, Jasmine also lies to Aladdin about her identity for, like, a day, but she gets off scot-free, while Aladdin is the one who struggles with whether to tell the truth. So I wondered what would happen if Jasmine weren’t forced to reveal herself so soon. Would she also be tempted to pass herself off as something she’s not, as Aladdin was? This story explores how this would change the plot and what our heroes learn. The only pairing is Aladdin/Jasmine. I will admit, it’s a bit darker and more mature than the movie, and borrows a few elements from the musical as well (though not the TV series—never seen it). If you’re still interested after this slightly expanded summary, please continue, dear reader…
> 
> ln(♪)

_“Seek me out the Diamond in the Rough.”_

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?! How can a _diamond_ go in after the treasure? It’s an inanimate object! I think that cat has been in the sand way too long—“

“Quiet yourself, Iago, or I shall lose my patience. I am trying to divine a solution to this little predicament.”

As far as Jafar was concerned, Iago was being willfully ignorant, and he hadn’t the time or inclination to disabuse him of his erroneous conclusions. That birdbrained… _bird_ could continue to be confused until he decided to wise up and use the brains sorcery had gifted him with. He continued working through the necessary calculations in blessed silence. To Jafar, it couldn’t be clearer that the guardian of the Cave of Wonders was referring to a person—a very specific person, at that—and this business about the ‘Diamond in the Rough’ was merely a figure of speech. But how to find this individual? It could be anyone, anyone in the whole world. 

Well, not _anyone_. It had to be ‘one whose worth lies far within.’ That along with the particular figure of speech used implied that it was a person who was of good moral character, but had fallen on hard times—someone whose appearance and social circumstances were at odds with their potential. Still though, there were so many possibilities that fit this description that one could travel for years and not manage to find the one he sought.

But now, after many hours of poring over books and scrolls detailing obscure branches of sorcery, Jafar thought he had an answer. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. It would, of course, require him to obtain the Sultan’s ring, which should not be difficult. He had found over the years that the Sultan was susceptible to hypnosis.

The hard part was going to be the lightning. Agrabah being located in a semi-arid climate, thunderstorms did not often occur. Such a storm might transpire once a year during the rainy season if they were lucky. Fortunately for him, the rainy season was about to begin. And when it did, Jafar would be prepared to capture this precious resource.

Jafar finally stood from his seat. “Come, Iago, we have much to do in preparation.”

“So now are you gonna tell me what’s going on? You shouldn’t keep me in the dark, Jafar. How am I supposed to help out if you never tell me anything?”

“Oh, my feathered friend, I do apologize. I assumed that even someone of your humble mental faculties would be able to grasp the essentials of the situation.”

Jafar swept out of the room, laughing at Iago’s indignant squawk. Despite the difficulties of the current circumstances, he was in a good mood. He would triumph despite the obstacles. He always had.

~ ♥ ♥ ~ 

If she were being honest with herself, Jasmine had to admit that the view of the palace from here was really beautiful. It was just too bad that she couldn’t bring herself to look at it without also summoning the anger, guilt, and sadness she felt about her life there and her ultimate decision to leave it. Seeing the look on Aladdin’s face as he wondered innocently what it would be like to live there was the last straw. 

“ _Sure._ People who tell you where to go or how to dress,” she responded, bitterness evident in her voice.

The boy looked surprised. “Huh, it’s better than here. You’re always scraping for food and ducking the guards.”

Jasmine was only half listening to him though, still deep in self-pity. “You’re not free to make your own choices.”

“Sometimes you feel so...”

“You’re just…”

“ _Trapped._ ”

Hearing their simultaneous pronunciation of the last word, Jasmine looked up at the boy and answered his smile with one of her own. It was nice to know that there was someone in this world who understood what she was feeling.

Her new friend cleared his throat and grabbed an apple from his monkey, rolling it down his shoulder and bumping it off his elbow to her. “So, where’re you from?”

She smiled a bit at the gesture, but it quickly faded in light of his question. “What does it matter? I ran away and I am _not_ going back.”

“Really? How come?” He came to sit next to her, concern evident on his features.

She sighed. She wanted to tell him the truth—or part of the truth anyway. It was nice to have a sympathetic ear for once. “My father’s forcing me to get married.”

“Oh, that’s—that’s _awful_.” The boy’s eyes widened in shock. She couldn’t have agreed more. Not that getting married in and of itself was terrible, but an arranged, political marriage to a man she neither knew nor loved? She didn’t want that. She feared it. She didn’t want to admit to being afraid of anything, but it was this fear that had led her to drive her suitors away before even giving them a real chance.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as the boy suddenly yelled, “Abu!” The monkey was putting up a fuss about something, chattering and scolding as he raced back to his perch on the broken wall.

Jasmine was curious what all the fuss was about. “What?”

The boy turned away from glaring at the monkey. “Uh, Abu says, uh…that’s not fair.”

Jasmine smiled. She hadn’t needed to see the light come on in the boy’s eyes as he thought of a response or the shock on the monkey’s face to know that this wasn’t quite the truth. “Oh did he?” She glanced up at him playfully.

“Yeah! Of course.”

“And does _Abu_ have anything else to say?”

“Well uh, he wishes there was something he could do to help,” the charming boy responded as he moved closer. Jasmine felt her heart rate increase at his proximity, as it had almost ever since he had walked into her life that day.

Jasmine glanced down, and in that moment realized what she wanted and found the courage to act on it. She looked back up into his eyes. “Tell him that’s very…sweet.” She felt her face grow warm as the boy moved even closer. Her eyes fell shut.

Jasmine’s first kiss was chaste and sweet, the press of the boy’s lips against hers gentle and warm. It left her wanting more, but she let it end there, for now.

It wasn’t until much later, curled up for the night in the boy’s arms on a blanket on the floor, that she realized that she didn’t even know his name.


	2. Three of a Kind

Aladdin sighed and let his head fall back against the narrow alley wall behind him. Why had he even _come_ to the market this early? The merchants were only just setting up their stalls, and they would surely see him if he tried to steal anything. He would have to wait for the market to be busier, when they would be distracted by legitimate customers. He usually wasn’t even awake yet. However, there was one thing to be said for the empty streets: they were quiet. And maybe Aladdin had some thinking to do.

Aladdin had no idea _what_ he’d been thinking last night. What was he _doing_ with this girl? She had needed help, yes, that much was clear, and she was pretty—no, _beautiful_ —no doubt about that. But she was way out of his league! Judging by the way she had acted in the market yesterday—and by the size of her gold earrings—it was pretty clear to Aladdin that she came from money. And therein lay the inherent danger of the situation. Aladdin was already a petty thief who was pretty strongly disliked by most of the guards. Imagine if he were caught with this girl! Her evidently wealthy and overbearing father would probably have him executed.

However, he had meant what he said last night. He really did want to help her, and not just because she was beautiful. She needed help; she was in trouble! And her situation must be pretty severe to send her out into the streets without even money. But as dire as the situation may be, it was pretty clear that she had no idea what life on the streets entailed. Aladdin had no way of providing her with even the most basic of comforts she would have enjoyed at home. She would probably tire of such hardship sooner or later and return to where she had come from. Aladdin certainly wouldn’t blame her. He just wished that it wouldn’t have to come to that, for her sake. And of course, he’d like her to stay with him too…

He shook his head to clear his mind, running his fingers through his shaggy hair. He really shouldn’t let himself get carried away with thinking of her. One way or another, she wouldn’t be around for long. The customers were finally beginning to appear, so maybe he should get his head on straight and find them some breakfast…

“Good morning.”

“Whoa!” Aladdin jumped and spun around to see who had just sneaked up on him, only to find _her_ standing there, smiling. He smiled back. “Don’t you know it’s not nice to sneak up on people like that?”

She raised one eyebrow, still smiling. “Just making sure you’re not letting your guard down.”

“Well, you got me there. How’d you find me?”

“I followed him,” she said, indicating above her head. Abu was perched on a windowsill one story up, clearly still sulking.

“Abu, let’s go get some breakfast.” Abu just cast Aladdin a malevolent glare and turned his back firmly upon him. “C’mon Abu, don’t be that way. We’ll get bananas, your favorite!”

As soon as Aladdin mentioned bananas, Abu sprang up, shrieking with delight, and was down on Aladdin’s shoulder quick as lightning. He pulled impatiently at Aladdin’s vest, trying to get him to move faster toward the banana cart.

“All right, I’m going, be patient!” Aladdin looked at the girl, who was trying to hold back her laughter. “Wait for us here; we’ll be right back with breakfast.”

~ ♥ ♣ ♦ ♠ ♥ ~ 

Jasmine walked beside the boy who had befriended her with his monkey sitting on her shoulder and eating a banana. Abu had warmed up to her after she had found that he loved being scratched behind the ears and the boy had made a suitable show of repentance by letting him have all the fruit he wanted.

“Are you sure that Abu can eat all those bananas?” She eyed the bunch that the boy was carrying.

“Oh, I’m sure someone will eat them,” he replied. He broke another banana off the bunch and offered it to her.

“No thank you, I can’t eat another bite,” she said. Abu grabbed the proffered fruit instead, even though he’d already had four. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Oh, well, we can do whatever you want. The city is our playground.” He grinned.

Jasmine thought about it. “Hmm. Well, I haven’t actually seen that much of the city yet. Any suggestions?”

“Hah, I could give you the full tour! But it would take days to see all of Agrabah.”

She smiled. “Well, I have to start somewhere, don’t I? And I’m not in any rush.”

The boy’s grin widened. “In that case, we’d better get started.”

“Sounds perfect,” Jasmine said.

The boy launched into an explanation of the layout of the city—as if Jasmine hadn’t seen the birds’-eye view of it from the palace. She liked hearing him talk though. He was very animated in his willingness to help her get to know the city. And she did learn a few new things, mostly about the people. The boy was able to tell her what kind of people inhabited the various portions of the city, which is hard to tell from the distance of a palace tower.

While they were wandering, they passed by an old, crippled beggar man whom the boy greeted as a friend and gave a couple of bananas. The man cackled his appreciation as he began gnawing on one with his few remaining teeth. “Good, this! Soft food for a soft old mouth.” His eyes turned to Jasmine and he winked. “And a lady that’s easy on these old eyes! You’re too good to me, boy!” He cackled again as she flushed.

The boy grinned sheepishly at her. “Don’t mind that old cripple. He never learned any manners. And it’s no use trying to teach him any either.”

“Old dogs can’t learn new tricks; don’t you know that, boy?” The beggar turned back to Jasmine. “You hang on to this one and don’t let him get away, you hear? He may not look like much, but he’ll make you happy.” He leered and winked again, and this time it was the boy’s turn to blush.

“All right now, old man, if you can’t keep a civil tongue in your head in the presence of a lady, we’ll be moving on,” the boy said as he steered Jasmine away, though his tone was still light.

“I’m just telling it like it is. You know me, boy—I’m too old to be much good at keeping my thoughts to myself.”

“You’re too old to be much good at anything!” the boy called back over his shoulder, still teasing. Jasmine could hear the beggar chuckling to himself as she and her new friend continued down the side street they were on.

They continued their leisurely tour of the city, but it wasn’t long before they found themselves down another alley. The boy was telling a rather amusing story about the last time Abu had tried to steal bananas and had almost lost his tail, but he stopped mid-sentence and a complicated look crossed his face. He had recognized something, but…could it also be mixed with sadness? She followed his gaze and felt her mouth fall open and eyes widen in shock.

There in the shadows were two little urchins picking through the trash. The little girl could not have been more than six, and the boy was even younger. Their clothes were ragged and their bare feet and legs were filthy. As she watched, the boy found a piece of bread mostly covered in mold and brought it to the girl. She examined it, then shook her head and threw it away. The little boy sighed and they both turned to go. That’s when the two children noticed they were being observed. At first they looked frightened, but when Jasmine’s rescuer stepped forward, they seemed to recognize him and smiled. They let him come close to them, so Jasmine followed. Her friend handed the remainder of the bananas to the little girl, but instead of taking them, she hesitantly touched his right forearm, looking sad.

Jasmine had already noticed the half-healed weal that circled his forearm several times. She had asked him what had happened, but he’d shrugged it off. “I had a run-in with a horse’s rear-end,” he’d laughed.

Now he just smiled at the girl in that reassuring way of his. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t even hurt.” He tried to hand her the bananas again, but she hesitated. “Go on, take them. We can’t eat all these by ourselves. Abu doesn’t even like bananas.”

At this, Abu let out an indignant squawk and gave him a dirty look, but the monkey was too full by this time to properly chastise his master. The children giggled, and Jasmine smiled. Aladdin continued. “You see this pretty lady here? You’ll make her very happy if you take these bananas off our hands for us.” The children looked to Jasmine, who nodded and smiled. 

Finally, the girl accepted the food. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for everything.” She looked like she might cry. The little boy launched himself forward and attacked his hero’s leg in a hug. 

The older boy was surprised at first, then he laughed. “Hey, don’t mention it. That guy was a real jerk.” He ruffled the child’s hair and grinned down at him. The little boy smiled back and released the leg he had attached himself to.

Jasmine’s new friend took her hand and began to lead her away. “You two take care, all right?” he called back, giving them that winning smile once again. The children waved, and he and Jasmine waved back.

Once they had turned the corner though, Jasmine’s curiosity got the better of her. “So how did that really happen?” she asked, indicating the wound on his arm.

The boy sighed. “Those two kids were playing—not really paying attention to where they were going—and they ran out into the street right in front of this rich jerk riding a horse. Well, the horse was startled and reared, and the man got mad. He brought up his whip and shouted, ‘Out of my way, filthy brats!’ Can you believe that? He was actually going to use a horsewhip on two innocent little kids!”

“That’s awful!”

“Yeah, he was a real piece of work. Anyway, I ran out to stop him but only got there in time to catch the whip around my forearm. It stung pretty good, but at least I was in the perfect position then to yank that whip out of his hands.”

“What did you do then?”

“I said, ‘If I were as rich as you, I could afford some manners,’ and I threw the whip back at him.”

“I bet he didn’t take that well.”

“You could say that. He said, ‘I’ll teach you some manners!’ and then he kicked me into a mud puddle. So as he rode away, I shouted, ‘Hey, look at that, Abu! It’s not every day you see a horse with two rear ends.’”

Jasmine smiled. “I bet that didn’t go over too well either.”

“Heh, not at all.”

“What did he say then?”

“Well, I won’t repeat that. It wasn’t the sort of language you’d use in polite conversation.” He paused. “Y’know, I overheard one of the bystanders say that that pompous windbag was a prince. They said he was a suitor come to see the princess. Heh, I hope the princess has enough sense to reject that one. Imagine him as the future Sultan! We’d all be doomed!”

Jasmine forced herself to laugh along with the boy. So Prince Achmed had threatened to whip helpless children and kicked this boy down in the mud! She’d been right about him after all. In fact, she may have _under_ estimated his nastiness. By all accounts, Prince Achmed more than deserved everything she and Rajah had put him through.

“Was it the truth you told the children? That it doesn’t hurt?” she had to ask.

“Eh, close enough,” the boy replied.

The rest of the day was spent wandering more or less aimlessly. Jasmine didn’t even notice she was hungry until Abu disappeared and came back with a few coins, which the boy used to buy bread. They took this with them back to the boy’s home, where the three of them ate it and watched the sun set. Jasmine had to admit, it was spectacular. The fading light reflected off the gold of the palace walls, turning them pink and red. But her attention was focused inward rather than out.

She had learned so much in these two days outside the palace walls. She had learned about the city—from the broad main streets to the twisting alleys. She had learned much more about life in it, from rich to poor. She had seen poverty firsthand, and it wasn’t pretty.

Most of all, she had learned that this boy that she’d fallen in with was an uncommon person. Despite his obvious poverty, he maintained a positive and sunny disposition. He seemed to bear no hard feelings towards the guards that chased him or the people that had named him a thief. Poor as he was, he gave what little he could to those who were even less fortunate and stood by those who needed help. Jasmine had never met anyone like him. Granted, she hadn’t met very many people while locked up in the palace, but she still suspected that people like this boy were rare.

However, there was one thing about him that she had not yet learned, but wanted to. She turned her face from the gorgeous sunset to look at him. She saw the fading gold light reflected in his eyes.

“It is really ridiculous that I’ve spent the last two days with you, but I don’t even know your name.”

He blinked in surprise, the realization crossing his face, and then laughed. “I don’t know your name either! Tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he grinned.

She smiled and took a breath to reply, but hesitated for just an instant before answering. “My name is Yasmin.” She wasn’t quite ready to tell her new friend who she really was yet. Besides, Yasmin was close enough to her real name.

The boy’s eyes widened. “Wow. That really suits you.”

She raised one eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Yeah. You couldn’t find a more perfect name if you tried.”

Jasmine blushed. “And what about you?”

“I’m Aladdin.”


	3. Hole Card

All servants hate being the bearers of bad news. Jafar knew this better than most, since his own temper was usually the reason for it. He also knew that the way the pageboy’s hands were shaking meant that whatever he had to say was not at all favorable. Jafar almost sighed. And things had been going so well.

Even the Sultan, who could be remarkably obtuse, had picked up on the page’s nervousness. “Well boy, what’s wrong? I thought I sent you for my daughter.”

The page gulped, then took a deep breath and spat it out. “Sire, I cannot find the princess. She is not anywhere in the palace.”

Jafar fixed his piercing gaze on the trembling lad, which only served to make the boy more nervous. “You are certain of this?”

“My lord, I looked all over the palace for her. Everyone I spoke to told me they had not seen her since the day Prince Achmed visited.”

Jafar raised his eyebrows at Iago perched on his shoulder, who surreptitiously shrugged in return. This was unexpected. He had thought nothing of the princess’s absence yesterday. He had assumed that she was sulking in her room.

Jafar turned to the Sultan, who was looking at him, waiting for his suggestion. “Sire, I think a search party should be organized within the palace grounds. It is probable that the princess is trying to avoid seeing another suitor.”

“ _Awwwck_ , search party, _awwwck_!” Iago squawked, edging away from the Sultan.

A little of the worry seemed to fade from the Sultan’s face. “You’re right, of course, Jafar. I’ll leave you in charge of that. While you attend to that, I must find my daughter another suitor.”

Jafar fumed. The last thing he wanted to be doing right now was searching the palace for a spoiled, stubborn teenage girl. But orders were orders, and he had to obey—for now.

However, the search for the princess did not go as Jafar had expected. Hour after hour passed with no sign of the girl, though Jafar had the entire staff searching for her. He even used a spell to detect the girl’s whereabouts inside the palace, but that also came up empty. Even Iago, with his knowledge of the secret passages, could not locate her. 

When Iago returned empty-handed to the pacing Jafar, the sorcerer shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I’m afraid that I’m forced to admit that the princess is no longer in the palace.”

“But she’s always in the palace! If she’s not here, then where the heck is she?”

Iago was right; this was completely unprecedented. As far as Jafar knew, the princess had never so much as set foot outside the palace grounds. If she wasn’t in the palace, where could she be? He organized the servants that were responsible for taking care of the princess and interviewed them—an unpleasant business for both parties, but infinitely more so for the staff, who were nearly traumatized by Jafar’s relentless questioning.

By mid-afternoon, Jafar had gathered all the information he could. It would appear that the pageboy had been correct. The princess was no longer in the palace, and no one had seen her since the day of Prince Achmed’s disastrous visit. The maid had been unable to pass the door of the princess’s chambers yesterday because that cursed tiger was standing guard outside, allowing no one to enter. She had instead left the meals just outside. Some of the food had been taken when she returned, so she had assumed that the princess had eaten, but Jafar reasoned that the tiger could also have taken it. This morning when the Sultan had summoned his daughter, one of the animal handlers had to be called to get the tiger away from the door before the page could enter. Upon entering, he had found the room deserted. Those were the facts of the case.

Jafar was none too pleased. “I have wasted nearly the entire day looking for that brat of a princess when I wanted to spend it in looking for the Diamond in the Rough. Now I am still no closer to finding either of them! The princess could have been gone as early as two nights ago. But what could have happened to her?”

“Maybe Prince Achmed wanted a little revenge on the princess for ruining his underwear, not to mention his pride,” Iago grinned.

Jafar had to admit that Iago had a point. The only explanation that either of them could see was that Prince Achmed, angry from her slights, had kidnapped the princess. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but he was really the only suspect they had. He would suggest to the Sultan that the guards be sent out to find him and bring him back before he reached his own kingdom.

As he made his report to the Sultan, Jafar could see the worry and fear return to the old man full force. There was nothing the Sultan wouldn’t do to get his daughter back. And Jafar fully intended to exploit this.


	4. One Pair

Today was Jasmine’s birthday.

Today she felt like celebrating, though not because she had lived another year. This day was special because it marked her freedom. She had beaten the law. She had reached her sixteenth birthday and was still unmarried to any prince in any kingdom on earth. This, Jasmine felt, was more cause for celebration than any she had yet had in her life.

Though she may have felt like celebrating, she could only do so internally. She did not dare to tell Aladdin that today was her birthday, for fear that he would remember that today was also the princess’s birthday and from there put two and two together. She found that she really did not want him to know that she was actually a princess. If he knew, he would treat her different—like royalty. It would change their relationship from this easy friendship they had known for the past few days. Jasmine had never had a friend like him. She didn’t want this to change.

Well, really, if she were being honest with herself, she actually _did_ want their relationship to change, just in a different way. She wanted more than just friendship from Aladdin. In fact, she suspected that this had been the case ever since he’d kissed her. In the past few days she had spent entirely in his company, he had showed her a whole new world. And though it may not have been filled with the splendor of palace life, it was the world that most people lived in. Jasmine had found that she loved speaking to these people, learning about their trials and triumphs. Most of the people she had met, though many of them were down on their luck, were wonderful to speak to and interact with. Even the few that were unpleasant were interesting in their way. She realized that this, more than anything else, was what she had missed while locked in the palace.

This especially applied to Aladdin, whom Jasmine had come to regard as one of a kind. He may be poor and a thief, but he had his own code of honor. He did what he could to help those less fortunate than him, which sometimes meant foregoing his own chance to eat in order to give someone else that chance. He didn’t make a big deal of it though. He did what he felt was right and didn’t call attention to his actions. 

She knew that he was doing the same thing for her. She was aware that she was more of a burden to him than a help, but he never made her feel that way. She knew that he was trying to help her escape from the life she had left behind, even if he didn’t know all the details. He had given her food, shelter, friendship—he had even managed to find some more sensible clothes for her to wear. He had gone well out of his way to help her, and had asked for nothing in return. Yes, he was a risk-taker, and it often seemed as if he didn’t take danger seriously enough, but Jasmine was coming to understand that this was out of necessity. He had to take risks just to survive, and if he couldn’t have a sense of humor about it, then he would have no other way to lift his spirits.

Though she was attracted to his selflessness and upbeat personality, it would be a lie to say that she didn’t think he was good-looking as well, even with his unkempt, shaggy hair. His body was strong from the demands of evading the guards, and his open vest did nothing to conceal this. His smile was perfect, and his large, brown eyes were so expressive and open. Jasmine often found herself observing him discreetly, watching the way he moved so gracefully or the play of expressions across his face.

Aladdin had not kissed her since that first night, and Jasmine was a little confused as to why. She was pretty sure that he liked her. The kiss, of course, was a dead giveaway, but she had also caught him watching her with soft eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking. And then there was that moment yesterday when they were fleeing the guards (yet again). Aladdin had pulled the two of them into a very narrow, conveniently dark gap between two buildings, where they hid until the guards had passed. Chest to chest, his arm around her waist, Jasmine watched the silhouette of Aladdin’s face turned toward the street, looking out for the guards. She could feel the tenseness in the muscles of his shoulders where her hands rested and the heat of his body pressed to hers. His heat seemed to go right into her—she felt an intensity she had never felt before. 

When he had judged the danger was past, he relaxed a bit and turned his face to hers to find her looking at him with an expression she was sure was far from innocent. The tenseness in his body returned, the arm around her waist pressed her closer, and she thought she saw his eyes darken, though it was hard to tell the expression on his face in the dim light. They remained like this for a moment that stretched on. Jasmine was sure that he would kiss her, and she welcomed it. But then he tore his gaze from hers and slid his arm back to take her hand instead, leading her back to the street and in the opposite direction the guards had taken.

It was a mystery, to say the least. And since it was her birthday and Jasmine was feeling a little high on the power of thwarting the unfair laws that had bound her, she decided that it would be the perfect time to unravel this little puzzle. With any luck, she would get what she really wanted for her birthday.

 ♦ ♣ ♥ ♠ ♦

Aladdin was headed home from the marketplace at the end of the day with a loaf of bread and Abu perched on his shoulder. He was hurrying a bit. He told himself it was because he didn’t like to leave Yasmin alone, but his own desire to be near her was probably closer to the truth. It was just too bad he wasn’t allowing himself to act on any of his desires at the moment.

He had to give the girl credit: she was holding up better than he’d thought she would. In the last four days they’d run from the authorities more than once, lived on whatever food he could find or steal, and slept with nothing more than a couple of blankets for protection against the hard floor and the chilly night air. Despite all that, she seemed to be none the worse for wear. She didn’t complain, and she didn’t seem unhappy. In fact, today she had seemed in better spirits than she ever had before in his short acquaintance with her. 

Through it all, she maintained a kind and gentle manner with those who needed his help. Aladdin actually wasn’t sure what was doing those two urchin children more good—his handouts or her kindness towards them.

Aladdin was amazed at Yasmin’s strong and adventurous spirit as well as her kind nature, which only had the effect of strengthening his attraction to her. His growing desire to be with her was making it all the harder for him to keep his distance, as he had promised himself he would.

He had not forgotten why it was a bad idea to let himself get carried away. Someone was surely looking for her, and Aladdin would probably find himself caught in the crossfire when they found her. This, however, was now the least of his concerns. He realized that he would sacrifice his freedom and more if it could help Yasmin in any way. But it was still more likely that she would eventually reach her limit of sleeping on the floor and eating scraps day after day. Then she would leave him forever.

And if she didn’t? What if she didn’t tire of all this? Aladdin knew that if this were so he would still have to be careful. He knew that Yasmin was meant for finer things. If he’d had the means, he would have provided for her every need. But as it was, he could barely get enough food for her. He couldn’t possibly ask her to stay with a lowly street rat like him, at the bottom of the social ladder. It wasn’t fair or right.

Aladdin sighed, resigning himself to holding his feelings inside. Perhaps they would fade after a time if he ignored them. This is what he told himself, though he sincerely doubted it.

Aladdin’s thoughts were interrupted when his monkey friend jumped off his shoulder to the ground. “Hey, Abu, where are you going? We’re almost home.” 

Abu turned around and glared at him. “What’s wrong, Abu?”

The monkey then fluttered his eyelashes and twirled his tail in what could only be an unflattering impression of Yasmin.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous again. I thought you were over it!” Aladdin said, exasperated.

This, however, appeared to be the wrong thing to say, as Abu then began chattering and screeching angrily at him before streaking away across the street.

“Abu, come back! Let’s talk about this!” Aladdin called, but the street was silent. Aladdin huffed out a breath. Fine. If that’s the way he wanted to act, then he could just go sulk for a while. He’d come back when he had cooled down—he always did when he had tantrums. Aladdin continued up the ladder and across the rooftops to his home, where Yasmin was waiting for him.

Aladdin’s first sight upon arriving at the top of the stairs took his breath away. The curtain was open, and Yasmin was sitting on the broken wall, brushing her hair and looking out at the city. Her beautiful form was framed in the aperture and silhouetted by the myriad colors of the sunset. The golden light reflected off her shining hair, playing along the strands as she brushed it in long, sure strokes.

Aladdin was unable to move for a minute, just watching this vision of beauty. Finally he acted on his instincts and stepped forward. He moved toward her almost soundlessly, setting the bread down on a blanket as he continued up the steps to her. “Hey,” he said softly, hoping she wouldn’t be startled.

Yasmin turned quickly, but she was smiling. “Hey,” she said, looking into his eyes.

Aladdin held out his hand for the brush. “May I?”

Yasmin smiled wider and simply placed the brush in his hand before turning back to the sunset. Aladdin settled himself on the low stone wall behind her, brush at the ready. He hesitated briefly, then let his other hand come up to sink into her soft, black tresses.

Aladdin had never brushed a woman’s hair before, so he hoped he was doing it right. For the first few minutes, he just concentrated on being gentle and not accidentally pulling on her scalp. The slide of her hair over his hands electrified his nerves, and he felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips. Some corner of his mind tried to remind him that he was supposed to be keeping his distance, but the sensations he was now experiencing smothered this weakly protesting voice.

He soon began to notice how relaxed Yasmin was. Her eyes were closed and there was a soft smile on her lips. “How am I doing?” Aladdin asked, grinning.

“Mmmmm, that feels fantastic,” she murmured, and Aladdin chuckled. She opened her eyes and turned her head to see him, a question written on her face. “Aladdin, why are you a thief?”

Aladdin nearly dropped the brush at her question. He had not been expecting that. “W-what?” he stammered.

Yasmin looked down, a little embarrassed. “I was just wondering…You seem like such a nice boy, and you’re smart and skillful. I’m surprised that someone with your talents would resort to thievery.”

Aladdin let out a surprised laugh. “Well, it’s not always one’s stellar personal qualities that matter to people. Sometimes they just don’t like you ‘cause you’re poor.”

It was Yasmin’s turn to be surprised. “Really? I mean, what are you talking about?”

Aladdin set down the brush and leaned back against the broken wall. He looked down at his hands, which seemed to have gone numb, and tried to explain.

“Yasmin, most people have this thing about poor people. They don’t like us very much. I’m not sure why—maybe they think we’re dirty, or lazy, or criminals or something. Whatever it is, they don’t want to even be around us, let alone hire us.”

Yasmin’s spine was straight as an arrow shaft, her arms crossed, indignation rolling off her. “That’s ridiculous! How can they even think that? How can they judge people before they know them?”

Aladdin shrugged. “Well, they know me. I have a reputation as one of the most annoying petty thieves in Agrabah. No way is anyone going to want a criminal hanging around, and forget about a job. I learned that the hard way, I guess.”

Yasmin paused, curiosity overcoming her indignation. “What do you mean?”

Aladdin sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then looked at her. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

Yasmin scooted closer to him. “I’m listening.”

Aladdin paused to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t really planned on telling her all this. A lot of these memories were too painful for even him to put a positive spin on things. In truth, he usually tried not to dwell on the past, or even think about it at all, for that matter. But he didn’t think it was fair to Yasmin to conceal it from her just because he didn’t want to think about it. It might help her to understand—especially about how wrong it was for her to stay with him. He shrank from the thought that this realization would cause her to leave, but he had to tell her. He owed it to her to tell her everything so that she wouldn’t make the same mistakes he had without knowing it. He took a deep breath and began.

“I’ve always been poor. I don’t remember ever living in a house; I very much doubt I ever have. I barely even remember my mother. I don’t think I was even four years old yet when she died. What I remember most about her was her unwavering belief that my father would come back to us one day. She hoped for that until her last breath. But her faith in him was in vain.” 

Aladdin realized that his voice had suddenly become bitter. He cleared his throat and moved on, careful not to mention his father again. His father, after all, was not important in this story.

“After my mother died, I was alone. There was one woman who used to give me food, but if her husband found me hanging around the house, he got angry and chased me away. Heh, I suppose it could be considered early training for ducking the guards. Most of the time I had to get by from begging or picking through trash for scraps.

“I started stealing when I was about seven. The first time, I was just really hungry and couldn’t find anything else, so I tried to take bread from a stall in the market. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. The vendor saw me, of course, and he and the guards chased me for a good long while. I got away, but only barely, and at the cost of my stolen bread. I’d lost it somewhere along the way. I decided that the experience was not worth repeating. Besides being wrong, it was dangerous and fruitless.

“So the next day, I tried to return to the market to beg for coins or scraps or whatever I could get, but a guard saw me and they chased me away again. I was confused, because I hadn’t even done anything wrong this time. It was the same story for at least a week. Any time a guard saw me, they tried to catch me. They were so relentless that I could barely find anything to eat.

“Finally, I was so hungry that I would’ve done just about anything for food. I decided to try stealing again, even though I didn’t want to, because I felt like I had no other choice. I was just really desperate—I don’t think I was thinking clearly, which is more than likely considering how hungry I was. This time, though, I was successful, and no one even saw me, which was good, because I don’t think I could’ve outrun the guards that time.

“What I really remember though, is how I felt after. I felt terrible, like I was lower than dirt because I stole something. Maybe it was just because I was so lightheaded, but I really felt like crying. I almost couldn’t eat the bread I’d taken because I knew I didn’t deserve it. 

“That’s when I realized why the guards were chasing me. This feeling of shame—it was because I had done something disgusting and awful, and the guards knew that. That’s why they hated me. I knew then that they would always chase me because of this terrible thing I’d done—I’d never be free of it. I wished I’d never even _thought_ to steal anything, but it was too late. I was a thief.”

Aladdin paused there, mired in his memories of that day. He remembered thinking that his mother would be so disappointed in him, that he’d let her down…

“That’s not true!”

Aladdin looked up sharply, startled by the harshness in Yasmin’s voice. He was shocked to see that she was actually near tears.

“You were just a little boy!” she continued angrily, eyes shining. “You were hungry—you didn’t know any better! What were you supposed to do, starve??” Suddenly she threw herself on top of him, embracing him tightly, and Aladdin’s arms instinctively came up around her back to steady the both of them on the narrow ledge. “You should have had someone to take care of you, but you were alone. You had no choice; you only did what you had to.”

Aladdin rubbed her back, recognizing her need to rationalize his story. He’d felt that need, too, for many years. “That’s what I used to tell myself, too. And maybe there really was nothing else I could have done. But if I’d known then what I do now, I think I would have done whatever it took to find another way.”

“And what’s that?” Yasmin sniffed against his shoulder.

“What I know now? What I know is that some reputations may be hard to earn and easy to lose, but those are only the good ones. The bad ones are exactly the opposite. I know now that if you commit a crime, even once, then that’s what you’ll be known for the rest of your life.” Maybe for good reason, he thought to himself. He felt Yasmin’s arms tighten around his waist.

They sat holding each other for many minutes, each in their own thoughts, watching the sky change color. The sight was beautiful, the atmosphere now seemed almost depressing.

Finally Aladdin, hoping to take Yasmin’s mind off the distressing story he’d just told her, said, “What a sunset. There really is no better view in the whole city—believe me, I’ve looked.”

Yasmin sighed, her head resting on Aladdin’s shoulder, her face just below his. “Yes. This twilight reminds me of another, actually.”

Aladdin looked again and laughed softly. “You’re right. It’s almost just like the night you first came here.”

“I know. You kissed me that night.”

Aladdin froze, warning lights going off in his head. This was not what he’d intended. He sensed the conversation had broken free of his control and was now spiraling down into dangerous territory. He tried desperately to think of a response that would allow him to stop this descent into madness, but his mind was blank.

Yasmin, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face so that he was looking down at her. Her eyes were fixed on his. “Why don’t you do it again?” she whispered.

Something exploded in Aladdin’s chest and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. She was so close! _So close!_ He felt his resistance crumbling as his heart rate skyrocketed. He couldn’t quite remember why he had felt the need to resist in the first place.

Then Yasmin’s eyes flickered down to his mouth and her lips parted slightly, and Aladdin was lost.

As his lips met hers, his eyes slid shut and he pulled her closer to him between his legs, which were positioned one on each side of the low wall. She moved forward eagerly and hooked her legs over both of his, bringing her even closer. Aladdin put one arm around her shoulders and the other hand on the bare skin of her lower back in a tight embrace that brought their bodies flush against one another. Aladdin felt her gasp into their kiss. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, catching her tongue with his, savoring the wonderful noises she was making in her throat.

He could feel her hands exploring his torso, running along his sides and back beneath his vest, leaving trails of fire just under his skin. Her fingers came around to trace the muscles of his stomach, then her hands wandered back to wrap around him. She hugged him tightly, bringing them closer, so that her bare stomach brushed against his. He heard Yasmin’s soft moan and he was very tempted to do the same.

However, the sensation had jolted him back to awareness, and the seriousness of the situation returned to his consciousness. With great reluctance, he broke the kiss and grasped her shoulders to gently push her back so he could see her face.

When he saw the color rising on her cheeks and the enlarged, dark pupils of her eyes, he almost gave in to temptation once again. Instead he took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

“Yasmin,” he said once they had both calmed down, “I don’t think you got what I was trying to tell you with that story.”

Her eyes were confused and concerned now. “And what’s that?”

Aladdin let go of Yasmin’s shoulders and let his head fall back against the wall. He looked up at the crumbling ceiling as he answered. “Bad reputations are hard to shake, Yasmin, and they can rub off on other people, too. If you’re seen with me too much, you’ll find out exactly what that means. People will associate you with me. They’ll think you’re a thief as well, or something just as bad. You deserve better than that.”

“So do you.”

Aladdin looked back at her, eyebrow raised, questioning. Yasmin continued. “Aladdin, the people who know you—who _really_ know you—don’t think of you as a criminal. I’ve seen it when they talk to you. They know who you really are. They know that you’re clever,” and here she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, “and talented,” she kissed him on the other cheek, “and selfless,” she said, and kissed him on the forehead.

Aladdin could feel his face burning. While he knew it was true what she said about certain people seeing him this way, he wasn’t actually sure if this was the ‘real him.’ He acted happy-go-lucky not just because he enjoyed being with people, but also because he just really didn’t want to dwell on his numerous mistakes all the time. He acted selfless not only because he truly felt for the people he was helping, but also because he wanted to make himself feel better about stealing all the time. If he gave some of what he stole to people who really needed it, he didn’t feel as bad about the act itself because he had turned it into a way to help other people. It had partially become a way to deal with the guilt he still felt deep down about his life of crime. He really did want to do something good with his life, but this was the only way he could find to do that, sad and morally flawed as it was.

Maybe this was why he had no friends other than a kleptomaniac monkey. He had thought he feared to get too close to people because they would be found guilty of his crimes by mere association with him. Maybe it was really because he didn’t want to face seeing himself as the failure he was in the eyes of another person he cared about.

In any case, Yasmin still wasn’t getting it. In the end, it didn’t really matter who he _really_ was: what mattered was his criminal record. If she was associated with him, she would be painted with the same brush of ignominy.

“What you say may be true, but it doesn’t change anything. Yasmin, if you stay with me, I’ll have doomed you to a life of poverty and crime.”

What she did next amazed him. Yasmin smiled softly, but her eyes were serious as she answered. “If it means I can stay with you, I think I can live with that.”

She leaned forward to kiss him again, and this time, Aladdin didn’t resist.

The two remained locked in their embrace, oblivious to all else around them. They did not heed the last light of the sun as it slipped below the horizon, highlighting the black storm clouds brewing in the distance.


	5. Flush

Jafar could almost feel the energy of the storm building above him. He had just finished putting the last touches on the scrying glass, which was fortunate, since the storm would discharge its power at any minute. 

“Hey Jafar, you finished yet?”

“Yes, my feathered friend.”

“Well it’s about time. I think that storm’s about to break loose.”

Jafar bristled. “I would have been done with the preparations much earlier if it hadn’t been for the search for that blasted girl taking up all my time,” he growled.

The search had not been successful, despite Jafar diverting a large portion of the sultanate’s resources to the task. The Sultan’s fastest riders had caught up to Prince Achmed in record time, possibly because the prince had been in no particular hurry to reach home and had stopped at a brothel in a neighboring city. Though the guards searched the premises for the missing princess, she was nowhere to be found, so they forcibly escorted Prince Achmed back to Agrabah. Jafar had him locked in a comfortable guest room while he dispatched messengers and soldiers to search the roads and towns for the princess. He also put Razoul and his goons on the hunt inside the city itself, but he doubted she was still here. Whoever had taken her would want to get her out of the city as quickly as possible to a safe location, probably to demand ransom. 

Prince Achmed was protesting his innocence, of course, and Jafar was inclined to believe him. He would perhaps get revenge by kidnapping the princess, but it would probably result in war for their two nations. Prince Achmed may be vain, arrogant, and totally lacking in empathy, but he was no fool. He may not care about the lives that would be lost, but he knew that wars were expensive and made trading difficult, and he was unlikely to want to lighten his purse so much for the sake of a little revenge.

Jafar cared little for all of this now, though. The princess could rot in whatever hellhole she had been dragged to. After tonight, he would know who and where the Diamond was. Then the hard part of this quest would be over, and it would be a short time until he had all that he desired.

Finally, Jafar heard the storm above reach a climax. Lightning ripped from the skies and struck the metal rod he had erected, funneling pure electricity to the machine he had created. Jafar watched as the Sultan’s blue diamond glowed with power. 

“Jafar, what’s happening?!” squawked Iago, a note of fear creeping into his harsh voice.

Jafar ignored the bird. He felt exultant—the contraption was working.

“Show me the Diamond in the Rough!” Jafar cried, and an image began to form.

At first Jafar thought that the glass was only showing him a distant view of the palace, but then he realized that he was actually seeing the inside of a room with one wall almost completely missing. Framed there in the gap was the silhouette of a man. He appeared to be looking out at the storm, his back to the room. Then he turned back to look at something that was just outside of Jafar’s line of vision. 

Just as Jafar was getting frustrated that he could not see the man’s face, a bolt of flickering lightning illuminated him. Jafar could clearly see the ragged pants and threadbare vest. He also got a good look at his face, and realized with a start that the Diamond was just a boy. All the better, though. The young and naïve are easier to manipulate.

“What the heck was that?” Iago said, coming to rest on his shoulder. “I could barely see anything. Was that kid the Diamond?”

“Yes, Iago, now silence! I need to concentrate.”

Jafar mentally calculated the distance and direction of his point of view from the image of the palace in the glass. He pulled out a map of the city. That the Diamond was so close was a stroke of luck that he had not dared wish for. He had prepared himself to travel far to get this one. Now he could see that in the area of the city he had estimated the boy to be, there was only one building high enough to view the palace from the specific angle he had seen in the glass.

Jafar cackled. “Here is the Diamond’s location,” he said as he pointed out the spot to Iago.

“So close? Geez, this is gonna be easier than we thought.”

“Yes, it is a stroke of great good fortune. Now I need only send for Razoul and put him and his hounds on the scent. Soon the Diamond will be mine, and after that, the lamp.”

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 

Aladdin was awakened by Abu jumping on his face.

He sat up so quickly that he nearly overbalanced and fell on top of Yasmin. He had somehow managed to avoid waking her up with his sudden start, and now that he was fully awake, he was careful not to do so.

“Abu!” he hissed, squinting through the darkness. A sudden flash of light illuminated the room, and Aladdin saw him huddled in the corner. The thunder that followed set the monkey shivering. Abu didn’t like thunderstorms.

Aladdin grabbed Abu’s blanket and brought it over to him. Abu snatched it and burrowed underneath of it. “So I guess you’re done throwing a fit, huh?” Aladdin said. Abu didn’t answer. It would appear that the storm had cut short his sulking and he had come back to his home for a place of relative safety from the elements. Aladdin laughed softly and walked to the demolished wall to look out at the storm.

Abu may not have liked storms, but Aladdin was fascinated by them. They didn’t often happen in Agrabah, so each time they did, it was awesome to behold. He watched as lightning split the sky, thunder booming. He wondered what it would feel like to be struck by such a powerful bolt. Probably not very pleasant, he supposed, though he had never spoken to someone who had experienced it.

The storm was beautiful, Aladdin decided, but not in the conventional way. It was dark and dangerous, but its power was thrilling. The way the lightning forked, never the same way twice, and cast the city in stark light and shadow added mystery. He could sit there and watch it all night.

However, he wondered if he shouldn’t shut the curtain to keep some of the wind and rain out. Perhaps Yasmin was cold. He looked over at her sleeping form and a flash of light illuminated her face. She was still asleep, though Aladdin didn’t know how that was possible with this thunder. 

Aladdin smiled. He could barely believe that Yasmin was still here with him after all he had told her about his past. After moving from the window to curl up together on their blanket, Aladdin had tried again to tell her what she was giving up by choosing to stay with him. She had told him very seriously, and in no uncertain terms, that she knew what she was doing. Aladdin still doubted this. Hearing about a life of poverty was one thing—actually living it was another. But she was at least informed. She had a pretty good idea of what was in store and she could live with that, so Aladdin thought that he could live with it too. She was a force of nature in and of herself.

Not unlike this storm, which Aladdin continued to watch, spellbound by its strange, majestic gravitas. He wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there musing, but he was finally aroused from his reverie by warm arms around his waist and a kiss on his shoulder.

“The bed is cold without you.”

Aladdin turned his head to look at her, smiling. “I’m sorry. Shall I close the curtain?”

Yasmin shook her head. “I like watching the storm, too.”

She settled herself next to Aladdin and draped the blanket she had brought around their shoulders. Then she frowned. “It’s still cold.”

Aladdin chuckled. “Then I guess we’ll just have to make a little heat.” 

He bent his head to hers and kissed her, long and slow. She turned her body towards his and brought her arms up around his neck, enveloping both of them in the blanket. His hands came to rest at her waist, pulling her closer, stroking her skin with his fingers. Then he broke the kiss to trail his lips from her mouth along the edge of her jaw, placing a kiss just under her ear. From there he moved slowly down her neck, just letting his lips brush along the pulsing vein, teasing her—right up until he opened his lips and sucked on it. He could barely hear the delicious noises she was making over the noise of the storm, but he could feel the vibrations in her throat, which he found was just as good.

A particularly loud blast of thunder caused them both to jump and break apart, though they still remained with their arms around one another. They laughed at themselves.

As Yasmin leaned forward to kiss Aladdin again, there was a flash of lightning that illuminated a movement from outside. “Wait,” Aladdin said. “I think I saw something.” 

Aladdin ducked out of the blanket and moved to the edge of the wall, trying to spot what he had seen again. Another flash of lightning did the trick. To his great surprise, he saw Razoul and four of his guards moving across the rooftops towards them. They could only be up here for one purpose. 

How had Razoul found where he lived?? Aladdin had been covering his tracks successfully for years. Also, why had he chosen to come after him during a thunderstorm? Wasn’t there any other dark night that wouldn’t result in them getting soaked?

At the moment, though, these questions were only a distraction. Aladdin turned and grabbed Yasmin’s hand. “Come on. The guards are here. We have to go before they catch us.” He just caught the surprised and fearful expression on Yasmin’s face as he strode over to Abu. 

“Abu! C’mon, we gotta go.” The monkey just cowered under his blanket. “I know you don’t want to go outside, but if you stay here, Razoul will catch you. I don’t think you want that.” Abu shuddered, then bounded up to Aladdin’s shoulder.

The three of them raced down the stairs as quickly as safety would allow and emerged on the rooftops amid the raging storm. They were almost instantly soaked. Aladdin had no time to appreciate this fact, however, as he was busy looking for any cover he could find. He leaped gaps between buildings and dodged clotheslines, all the while holding Yasmin’s hand to make sure they did not become separated. He soon found a building with a low parapet, behind which he concealed the three of them, crouching there to remain hidden.

Aladdin raised himself up again, looking over the low wall to see if they were being pursued. He watched as Razoul rounded the corner just twenty feet away from them and led his men into the tower that he, Yasmin, and Abu had recently vacated. Now was their chance to make a clean getaway, before the guards gained the top of the tower and the view it afforded them.

Aladdin, still holding Yasmin’s hand, jumped up and fled across the rooftops. As soon as he was able, he descended to the street and led the way through a labyrinth of alleys and side streets, barely pausing to draw breath.

He finally stopped when he had judged that he’d put enough distance between them and any possible pursuit. He pulled Yasmin under a small awning for a respite from the storm. All three of them were soaked through and freezing cold. Aladdin felt like his hand was frozen onto Yasmin’s, for all the feeling he had left in his extremities. Both Yasmin and Abu drew close to Aladdin, shivering, but Aladdin was a poor comfort for them, as he was just as cold. He had to get them to shelter somehow, or risk them becoming ill.

He only had one idea, and he prayed that Yasmin wouldn’t be repulsed by it. He pulled all of them back out into the rain and made his way to a stable that he knew was nearby. Inside it was warmer and dry, which was what mattered right now. Sure, they would be sleeping with donkeys and camels, but it was preferable to being outside. Abu immediately cast aside his wet vest and burrowed underneath a horse blanket.

Aladdin realized that Abu was right: taking off their clothes would be the fastest way to get warm, but he wondered how Yasmin would take it. He took one look at her and decided it was at least worth suggesting. She was still shaking and he could see that her lips were blue even in the near-darkness. He grabbed a few blankets and led the way up to the loft, where there was a pile of hay. He spread one of the blankets on top of it.

“Yasmin?” Aladdin started, tentatively. The girl looked up at him, eyes half lidded with fatigue and still shivering. “Um, it would be better if—I mean to say, we would warm up faster if we—well, if we took our wet clothes off.” Yasmin’s eyes widened and she hesitated, but the discomfort of the cold must have won out in the end because she finally nodded.

The loft was so dark that Aladdin could barely see, but he still turned around to give Yasmin some privacy. He pulled off his vest and hung it on a rafter, then worked on his pants, which were much harder as they were clinging to his legs and his limbs were stiff from the cold. Even with all his natural grace, he nearly fell over twice. He left his underpants on out of respect for Yasmin.

He stood waiting, back turned to her. What would happen now? Most men might welcome the chance to be skin to skin with this beautiful woman, but to Aladdin, the situation felt awkward. They’d been sharing a bed for several nights now, but this was different. He didn’t want Yasmin to have this kind of pressure on her, to be forced to go farther than she was comfortable with. He didn’t know what to do, where to go from here. It was necessary for them to be close to share body heat, but at the same time he didn’t want to push her.

He was working himself into a real stew when he felt her cold hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see her silhouette. “Can we get under the blankets now?” she asked, her voice small and shaking. Aladdin hoped it was due to the cold.

He took her hand and led her to the hay, arranging the blankets above them before settling down at her back. He wrapped his arms around her as he did every night, in the process noticing that she was also wearing underpants, but nothing else. The sensation of the bare skin of her back against his chest was strange to him. More than that though, he could feel that she was freezing. He wasn’t much better off, but they would be all right soon. Yasmin sighed, as though relieved to be warm again. Aladdin immediately felt more at ease about the necessity of taking off their clothes.

As Aladdin drifted off, he had the brief, not entirely lucid realization that he had become accustomed to falling asleep to the feel of Yasmin’s heartbeat.


	6. Four of a Kind

Jasmine was awakened by a hand covering her mouth.

She nearly panicked until she heard Aladdin’s voice whispering in her ear. “It’s okay, it’s just me! We have to be quiet; there’s someone else in here. Go and quick hide behind the haystack, alright?”

Jasmine nodded to show she’d understood, and she felt him release her, pulling his hand from her mouth and his arm from around her waist so he could stand up. She immediately wrapped a blanket around herself and grabbed the others, moving quickly to the other side of the haystack so that she was between it and the wall. She threw the blankets down and lay flat so she couldn’t be seen. Aladdin was close behind her with their clothes. He squeezed in next to her in the small space.

She could hear the footsteps of the person below them as he moved about, whistling an off-key tune as he worked. Her mind, however, was less occupied with the imminent danger and more with the fact that Aladdin was lying right next to her and wearing next to nothing—of which the same could be said of her. Aladdin appeared not to notice their state of undress, however. He was on edge, his mouth set in a slight frown as he listened. His arm around her waist was tense. As the man climbed up to the loft, his arm tightened around her, keeping her close to him. Jasmine hardly dared to breathe as the man came within feet of them to get some hay for the animals. Neither of them relaxed until they heard the door bang shut and the whistling fading away.

Jasmine let out the breath she had been holding and ran a slightly shaking hand through her hair. “That was a close call.”

“Not as close as it was last night,” Aladdin said, already standing to hang their clothes up once again.

“Our clothes aren’t dry yet?”

“No,” Aladdin answered as he sat back down in the hay. He seemed agitated to Jasmine. Such a terse rejoinder was unlike him, and he had yet to smile when it usually came so easy to him.

Jasmine sat up beside him, holding the blanket around her. “What is it?”

Aladdin’s eyes flicked towards her, but didn’t meet her eyes. “Hmm?” He was definitely preoccupied.

Jasmine put a hand on his shoulder, which finally got his attention. He turned to look at her for the first time that morning. “What are you thinking about, Aladdin?”

He sighed and looked away again, absently picking up a bit of hay and tearing it apart with his fingers. “Doesn’t what happened last night seem a bit odd to you?”

Jasmine frowned, not liking where this was going. “How so?”

“Well, first of all, I’ve lived in that tower for years without the guards catching on. How did they find me all of a sudden? I’ve always been careful to cover my tracks, but maybe I slipped up…”

Jasmine felt bad. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for this. It could as easily have been my fault.” In fact, she was sure that she was the reason for their discovery, though maybe not in the way Aladdin thought. She was sure that her father had all the guards on the lookout for her. It would seem that someone had spotted her and the guards had been deployed to bring her back. The case of a missing princess is far more serious than that of a street thief, so that must have given them the extra incentive to hunt the two of them down once and for all. Jasmine felt a pang at the realization that helping her had likely cost this boy his home. She continued, “In fact, it probably was. I’m sorry.” She looked down, ashamed.

She saw Aladdin’s hand cover hers, intertwining their fingers. His other hand gently lifted her chin so she would look at him. “Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault, really. It had to happen sooner or later.” He finally gave her a soft smile.

Jasmine sensed there was something more he had to say. “Then what’s worrying you?” she asked.

Aladdin dropped his hand and his smile faded. “Doesn’t it seem strange that they would choose to come after me in the middle of a thunderstorm? It was just as wet and dangerous for them as it was for us.”

Jasmine thought about it. It did indeed raise a few questions. “Maybe they were hoping to use the noise of the storm as cover? And if it’s raining you’re sure to be at home, not out and about, so they knew you’d be there.”

Aladdin smirked. “That’s giving them way too much credit. I’m sure that the cover the storm may have provided didn’t even occur to them. And if it did, I don’t think they would have exposed themselves to so much discomfort just to catch a petty thief.”

“What about to catch _both_ of us?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Jasmine wished she could take them back. She could see the question in his eyes, wanting to ask her who her father actually was, why she should garner so much attention from the guards. She held her breath as he held her in his gaze, but to her relief, he didn’t ask. He just said, “Maybe.”

Jasmine was relieved, but she didn’t want to think about why. She knew that it was unfair of her to keep her friend in the dark, especially after this near miss, but she was still afraid. If he knew she was a princess, everything would end. She wasn’t quite sure how he would react, but she knew that the feelings that had been growing between them would never come to fruition. Maybe he would try to treat her like royalty, or take her back to the palace, or put himself at a safe distance by leaving her. No, on second thought, she was sure he wouldn’t abandon her. He was too good to do such a thing. But he would know that he could never be with her. The law prevented her marrying anyone but a prince. Perhaps…perhaps he would be angry with her for keeping this secret from him. She couldn’t say she would blame him.

In any case, she wasn’t ready for him to know the truth. She didn’t know if she ever would be. A very large part of her wanted never to tell him, to go on living at his side for the rest of her life: a common woman free to make her own choices. Perhaps if she ignored the truth, pretended she wasn’t a princess—perhaps that is exactly what would happen.

Aladdin called her back from her thoughts. “Anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

Jasmine looked at him. “So what _do_ we do now?”

“Wait for our clothes to dry, I guess.”

“And in the meantime? We can’t exactly go out dressed like this.”

Aladdin raised one eyebrow. “Of course not. But there are other things we can do to kill time.”

“Like what?”

Aladdin glanced away, but he seemed to be fighting down a smile. “Well, I really liked kissing you last night.”

Jasmine felt a grin tugging at the corners of her own mouth. “Is that so?”

Aladdin looked at her, grinning. “Yeah. You’re really good at it.”

Jasmine could feel her cheeks heating up as she fought to keep a straight face. “Well, I think perhaps you deserve most of the credit.”

Aladdin’s grin widened as he moved closer. “Shall we test that theory?”

“Mmmm, what an idea,” Jasmine purred as he closed the distance between them.

As their lips met, Jasmine felt a coil of heat begin to tighten in her belly. Kissing Aladdin was definitely the most exciting thing she had ever done. She opened her mouth to allow their tongues to twine together, and recalled how amazing it had felt last night when Aladdin had turned his attentions to her neck. She saw no reason why she shouldn’t return the favor. She moved forward, pressing him back so he was lying on the hay. He pulled her down on top of him, not wanting to break the kiss, but she pulled away anyway. She heard him make a noise that sounded almost disappointed, until she lowered her head to kiss the point between his neck and shoulder. He gasped, and she felt his hands tighten on her waist. She kissed up the side of his neck to just below his jaw, feeling his breath hitch with every contact of her lips. Then, feeling bold, she licked the point just below his ear. She heard him gasp again, so the next time, she licked a line all the way up his throat from the dip in his collarbone to his chin. Aladdin groaned.

Suddenly, Jasmine found herself on her back in the hay. Aladdin had flipped them over, reversing their positions so that he was now above her. She gasped in surprise, which was quickly cut off by Aladdin’s lips on hers.

She barely had time to wrap her arms around his neck however, before they heard the door of the stable bang open and a tuneless whistle reach their ears. Aladdin groaned softly. “That guy has the worst timing,” he whispered, “and I’m not talking about his whistling.”

Aladdin began to move away from Jasmine, but her arms around his neck stopped him. He looked at her, confused, but she just gave him a smile that was less than innocent. “There’s no reason he should interrupt us,” she purred, then moved her head so her lips were almost touching his ear before whispering, “as long as we’re quiet.”

Aladdin looked shocked for just a second before he answered her seductive little grin with one of his own. “That being the case, I suppose we should occupy our mouths with something other than talking,” he replied, and bent to kiss her before her giggles alerted the oblivious stable hand.

 ♦ ♥ ♣ ♠ ♦  


Jafar regarded Razoul and the three guards behind him with cold fury in his eyes. His grip tightened on his staff until his knuckles turned white.

“So,” he said quietly, venom dripping from his voice, “let me see if I have heard you correctly. This street rat has been evading you for years, making fools of you and your men. And now that I have told you exactly where he is and how to catch him, you have allowed him to slip through your fingers _yet again_.”

Razoul looked chagrined. “My lord, I am most sorry for my failure—“

“Your apologies mean nothing to me!” Jafar shouted, banging his staff upon the floor. “’Sorry’ does not make up for your complete incompetence, nor will it save you from the consequences if you should fail me. I want results, captain, not your pathetic excuses.”

Razoul bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”

“If you are incapable of the simple task of apprehending a petty thief, I will remove you from your post as captain as you are clearly unworthy of it. Perhaps someone else will have better success.”

“Give me another chance, my lord. I will catch that little rat if it’s the last thing I do. I swear on my honor.”

Jafar sneered. “Your honor must not be a very great thing to have allowed him to evade you for so many years. However, I don’t have the resources at the moment to replace you. The search for the princess is of the first priority and most of the guards are engaged in it. So, captain, you have your second chance. Succeed, and I’ll consider allowing you to remain an officer of the guard.”

“Thank you, my lord. I will not fail you again.”

“See that you don’t. You are dismissed.”

“ _Awwwck!_ You’re dismissed! _Awwwck!_ ” Iago screeched after the retreating guards. As soon as they were gone, he turned to Jafar. “Well, that could’ve gone better.”

Jafar cast a glance at the parrot. “You think?” He replied, sarcasm evident in his tone.

“D’you think they’ll catch him this time? You certainly gave them some motivation to get the job done right.”

“Razoul’s incompetence notwithstanding, I think it’s only a matter of time before the Diamond is caught. There will certainly be greater pressure on him now than ever before. Besides, you remember that Razoul reported that he has a woman now that he’s reluctant to leave behind.”

“So what?”

“It makes him vulnerable, having to take care of her as well. She will slow him down.”

“I don’t know, Jafar. I mean, there’s a reason why he’s the chosen one. He must be pretty good to be the one the Cave named as the Diamond in the Rough. There might be more to him than we’re expecting.”

Iago flew to his perch and began preening his feathers. Jafar remained standing in the center of the chamber, thinking about what Iago had said. He had to admit that the bird had a point. He had to remember that there was more to this boy than meets the eye. Perhaps he had already underestimated him.

 ♥ ♣ ♠ ♦ ♥  


Come nightfall, Jasmine found herself sneaking down side streets and back alleys with Aladdin, making their way back toward Aladdin’s home. Neither of them were speaking. Aladdin had impressed upon her that silence was of the utmost importance. She tried to copy his stealthy movements, stepping where he stepped and trying not to make any noise. Even Abu was uncharacteristically quiet.

Aladdin would stop every now and then as though listening or looking for something. This behavior became more frequent the closer they came to home. Abu also seemed to be on the alert, occasionally leaving Aladdin’s shoulder to investigate something. Jasmine wasn’t sure what they were looking for, but she was sure their actions had a purpose.

Finally, when they were so close to home that Jasmine could see the tower just above them, Aladdin stopped abruptly and grabbed her hand. He brought his mouth to her ear and whispered, “The place is being watched. Look—you see the guard?”

Jasmine looked in the direction Aladdin was indicating and did indeed see a man in regular clothes loitering in the street just ahead. He was not looking at them—rather, he was facing the tower.

Jasmine nodded, then whispered, “How do you know he’s a guard?”

Aladdin began to lead her back the way they had come as he responded. “He may not have the uniform on, but I recognize his face. He’s been after me one or two times in the past.”

Jasmine nodded, realizing that this was the reason for their cautious behavior. “What are we going to do?”

Aladdin frowned. “We’ll have to find somewhere else to stay. As long as they’re watching the tower, we can’t go back there. For now we can go back to the stable and lay low. We can look for another place to live in the morning.”

Jasmine felt a pang of guilt. The worst had indeed come to pass—helping her had cost Aladdin his home, simple as it was. The realization made her stop in her tracks. Aladdin turned back to her, concerned. “I’m sorry, Aladdin.” He just looked confused at her apology, so she continued. “It was your home, and now you can’t go back.”

Aladdin smiled at her in a reassuring manner. “Don’t worry about it, Yasmin. It’s happened before that they’ve found me out and I had to move. Besides,” he said, cupping her cheek, “there’s a saying that people have: ‘Home is where the heart is.’ So as long as I’m with you, I’ll always be home.” His smile became a playful grin.

Jasmine grinned despite herself. “That’s a pretty good line.”

“You like it?” Aladdin waggled his eyebrows and pressed his forehead to hers.

“No. It’s too corny for my taste. Besides, I bet you tell that to all the girls. I’m sure they go wild for it.”

“Come on, Yasmin. There’s only one girl in the world that would inspire such heartfelt poetry in me.”

“The old laundry woman?”

“No! You, of course. Not just any girl can affect my brain like that and make me so turned around that I think cheesy declarations of affection are a good idea. Just you.”

Jasmine couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Maybe you should work on that. I don’t know if I can put up with that for long.”

Aladdin’s smiled softened. “I can’t help it. But I hope you’ll let me stay anyway.”

Jasmine looked back into his eyes that were laughing but serious at the same time. She smiled as well. “I think I’ll still keep you around,” she said, then leaned in to kiss him.


	7. Hard Hand

Two days.

That was how long it had been since Jasmine had eaten. She’d had some bread the evening before last, and that had been the last time food had passed her lips. It had been at least a week since she’d slept with a roof over her head, and more than a month since she’d last slept in the same place on consecutive nights.

They were after them. The guards had pursued her and Aladdin with a single-mindedness that Aladdin said he’d never seen before. They had to constantly be on their guard, moving around to be sure they weren’t followed. They dared not show their faces in the market or any of the crowded areas of the city that the guards frequented. It was making food and rest extremely hard to come by.

She realized now that she’d had no conception of what it meant to be poor. She hadn’t had the slightest idea what she was doing when she had told Aladdin all those weeks ago that she knew and accepted what she was getting herself into by staying with him. She now also knew that he had known that she was clueless and had tried to warn her, but she was nothing if not stubborn and had insisted.

She had known on some level that being poor meant that one would be hungry, and probably uncomfortable because sleeping on the street with scarcely a blanket couldn’t exactly be luxurious. What she hadn’t realized was that that hunger and discomfort were always there. Sleeping on the ground was cold and restless, and she ached after. Her stomach often pained her, and when it didn’t, she felt lightheaded and weak. The sweat and dirt on her skin and hair was hard to rid herself of with nowhere secure to bathe, and she had only one set of clothes that was getting more ragged and dirty by the day. She was often tired.

This physical pain, however, was small in comparison to what she was feeling in her soul. She hadn’t known what it would do to her that first time she dug through the trash to look for something to eat. She hadn’t known what it would feel like to have people’s eyes pass over her on the street, completely ignoring her, as though she were little more than an insect in their estimation. Some of them treated her like she was a rat, the disgust showing on their faces. She had once slept in an alley with a stray dog curled up not ten feet away. She couldn’t help but sympathize with it.

Sometimes she didn’t feel like a person at all. She was weary in body and soul, and she was very aware that she had only undergone several weeks of this. She could not imagine what it would do to her to live like this for years on end. Would she forget what it would feel like to be human? Would she have any dignity left?

The only thing that could make her feel good again was being with Aladdin. She was now waiting to meet him at some shady spot that they had agreed on that morning. As hard as this last month had been on her, it had been a hundred times harder on him. She was acutely aware of this, and also of the fact that a large part of his suffering was due to her. She could tell that he was trying to shield her from the worst of their circumstances. However, he was only partially succeeding and was sacrificing so much in the process. He still somehow managed to lift her spirits, just by being himself. But his cheerful disposition had begun to grow thin and cracked. He was still as kind to her as ever, but he couldn’t always bring a smile to his face anymore.

Jasmine had taken it upon herself to do as much as she possibly could for him. He made her happy, and she wanted to do the same for him. She had already insisted that he allow her to do some things—to share the load and try to pull her own weight by looking for food, scouting for sleeping spots, or other odd tasks. But she didn’t have the experience or skill to provide for them most of the time, so most of the work fell to him. Sometimes the only thing she felt she could do was to just be there for him, for emotional support. She felt that it wasn’t enough, but she didn’t know what else she could do.

That, of course, was a lie. There _was_ something she could do. She could go back to the palace, turn herself in. Then the guards would stop looking for him, or at least she could order that they cease their persecution. And then she would be married off to a prince, and she would never see him again.

She had reconsidered the idea more than once in the past month. How long did she really think she could get away with this, anyway? She wasn’t yet willing to give up, though. She still wanted to be with Aladdin more than anything else in the world, and she was going to fight for that. But she was going to have to come up with something to do about the situation she had gotten them both into, and soon.

Aladdin was late. She hated it when he was late—she had no way of knowing what had become of him. It was entirely possible that the guards could have captured him. Whenever he failed to make their rendezvous on time, her stomach tied itself in knots and she would feel sick with worry. She knew that he felt the same way whenever she was out of his sight. She had been late herself once and she had found him pacing in circles, fists clenched, mouth set in a hard frown. When he finally caught sight of her he’d run to her immediately, gathered her into a tight embrace, and kissed her fervently. By this she knew that he was as anxious as she.

He couldn’t always help being late though. For some reason, the guards seemed to focus on him more, and he often had to shake them off his trail before he could make his way to her. Jasmine found this strange. If they were after her, why not go for her directly? Why pursue Aladdin so closely? Perhaps it was just because they didn’t like him. She wasn’t sure though, which was another reason for her hesitation to return to the palace. Something told her that if she gave herself up, Aladdin might not necessarily be safe even then.

Jasmine heard a noise above her, and looked up in time to see Aladdin dismounting from the rooftop. She was there as soon as he touched the ground, embracing him. He wrapped his arms around her as well and leaned back against the wall behind him, kissing the top of her head. 

After her initial relief to see him safe and sound had subsided, Jasmine noticed that he was breathing hard and trembling a little. She pulled back enough to see his face. “They chased you here, didn’t they?”

Aladdin nodded. “Don’t worry, I gave them the slip. We should get moving though, before they figure out which direction I actually took.” 

He grabbed her hand and started to lead her back down the alley, but Jasmine hesitated. “Where’s Abu?”

As if in answer to her question, she heard the monkey chattering, and she looked around to see him seated on an awning just ahead. He scampered down and leapt onto her shoulder, then patted her head with his little hand. She and Aladdin both smiled and started forward again.

They walked in silence, but always hand in hand. They were typically quiet while on the move, so as not to alert anyone to their presence. They walked at least a mile before they stopped in the place where Aladdin had decided they would spend the night. It was little more than a stoop that opened onto a narrow alley, but there was a small awning above it that offered some protection from the elements. Jasmine immediately unrolled the mat they had acquired, then took Aladdin’s hand, trying to pull him down to sit. He needed to rest.

He didn’t join her on the mat, however, until he was satisfied the coast was clear. He finally flopped down next to her with a sigh, then looked over at her and smiled. “How was your day, dear?”

She smiled back. “Pretty much the same as yesterday, honey. Only with more guards chasing us.”

“Well,” Aladdin replied, reaching into his bag, “I have something that might make you feel better.” He drew out half a loaf of bread and handed it to her, but Jasmine did not take it, instead fixing him with an appraising stare. Aladdin cleared his throat and tried to smile carelessly at her. “I already ate. What do you think happened to the rest of the loaf?”

Jasmine crossed her arms. “I don’t know what became of it, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t eat it.”

Aladdin opened his mouth like he was going to protest, but Jasmine just gave him that look, the one that said that he had better not lie to her, and he stopped. He looked at the ground and sighed. “All right. I gave my half to our two little friends. I think the boy is sick—he didn’t look well. And I haven’t been around to help them out lately, so…” He trailed off and shrugged. He didn’t need to tell her that he felt bad that he hadn’t done anything for them in several weeks. Jasmine felt the same. She hated to think that the two children had been relying on them for a while, and now they were alone again. She couldn’t fault Aladdin for giving away their scarce resources.

“Yasmin? Here,” Aladdin said, holding the bread out to her. Jasmine suppressed a sigh.

She hadn’t eaten in two days. She couldn’t even remember the last time Aladdin had eaten.

Jasmine met his eyes and gave him a soft smile. “You eat it.” Aladdin opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a finger against his lips. “You gave your bread to the children. So let me give mine to you.” She leaned forward and kissed him, long and slow.

He did not protest anymore after that, and ate the bread in silence. Jasmine busied herself trying to fix a hole in their one blanket, but she had neither needle nor thread, so there was little she could do about it. Her mind, however, was elsewhere.

This pattern of living they had got into could not continue. They weren’t getting enough sleep or food to keep going like this. The two of them were wearing out quickly. It didn’t look like the guards were going to give up any time soon, and sooner or later they would catch them. What could they do? There was nowhere in Agrabah that they could hide, no place within the city walls that was safe…

The sudden realization made her heart leap and then sink. There was only one thing to do. She turned to Aladdin, who had finished the bread and was now stroking Abu absent-mindedly. “We have to leave Agrabah.”

Aladdin turned to her. There was no surprise on his face, no confusion in his demeanor, only sadness in his eyes. She realized then that he had already known this, already come to this conclusion—but he, like herself, was reluctant to leave the city that had been their home all their lives.

Aladdin took her hand in his, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “It’s going to be difficult. And very dangerous. In fact, I’m not sure that we can do it, even if we wanted to. There’s a hundred miles of desert between here and the nearest city. It will be impossible to make that journey without supplies, which we don’t have and can’t get.”

“We have to find a way. There’s no other choice. If we stay…” Jasmine trailed off, but she was sure that Aladdin knew what she would say. She knew that the same concerns were on his mind as well.

Aladdin’s brow creased in a frown. “I know. But there’s just no way to do it without money. I’d have to pick a lot of pockets just to get the bare minimum of what we would need, and I don’t feel comfortable crossing a desert on the bare minimum. No room for mistakes.”

Jasmine sighed. Why hadn’t she thought to bring any money at all from the palace? She couldn’t believe how naïve and stupid she’d been—

Wait a minute. But she _had_ brought something with her from the palace. Something very valuable…

“My clothes,” she whispered, the beginnings of a plan dawning on her.

“What?” Aladdin said, clearly confused.

“My clothes,” she said again, louder. “We can sell my clothes, the ones I was wearing when I met you. They’re silk, which is very valuable. And the earrings are gold, too. That ought to get us enough money to buy what we need.”

“I don’t suppose that you’re forgetting that we had to leave your clothes in the tower, which is _still_ being watched? They might not even be there anymore—the guards may have found them.”

“I doubt it. They’re very well hidden, and the guards wouldn’t be looking for something like that, I think.”

Aladdin still seemed skeptical. “But they are looking for us, and the tower is being watched.”

“So we’ll just have to steal the clothes back. Are you a thief or aren’t you?”

Suddenly Aladdin grinned. “I suppose I do have some skills in that area. All right, you’ve convinced me. But I’m going to need your help if we’re going to pull this off.”

Jasmine smiled. “Bring it on.”


	8. 2 of Clubs

“You ready?”

Yasmin nodded, but she looked nervous. “Aladdin, if this doesn’t go well—“

“Everything’s gonna be fine. How could we fail? The two of us against those idiot guards? They’re totally outmatched.”

Aladdin was suddenly interrupted by irate squabbling.

“Sorry, Abu, I mean the three of us. See? Piece of cake.”

Yasmin let out the breath she’d been holding. “You’re right. We can do this. I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit. I’m gonna go set phase one in motion. See you at the rendezvous point.” Aladdin hesitated before leaving, though. He instead wrapped her in his arms and kissed her, long and slow. He could feel her trembling. “Good luck,” he whispered in her ear, then sped off into the night.

He and Abu snuck up on the guard on watch duty without any trouble. It was a simple matter to get his attention—Aladdin simply kicked a rock and made a noise, and the man whirled around. Aladdin smiled and waved at him, and just as the guard was realizing what was happening, Abu jumped on his head and shoved his turban down over his eyes. Aladdin lingered just long enough to see Jasmine scale the ladder to the roof behind the man’s back, then he and Abu ran like mad as the cursing guard worked to extricate himself from his turban.

As he ran, he heard the man calling for assistance from the other guards stationed in the area. He chanced a look back, and saw that they were converging on him more quickly than he’d anticipated.

“Abu! Time to disappear!”

Abu squawked in agreement. They turned the corner, and Aladdin used an old cart to vault up onto the awning just above it. He and Abu lay flat on top of the awning, where they couldn’t be seen by the guards. And they were just in time: five guards rounded the corner just after they had concealed themselves. Aladdin lay there, heart pounding, panting for breath as quietly as possible, and listened to what the guards were saying.

“Hey, where’d he go?”

“He’s got to be around here somewhere. You two take that way and the rest of us will go the other.”

“Wait just a minute, now, who made you the boss?” Aladdin recognized Razoul’s voice. “I’m the captain and I’m giving the orders here. I think that he doubled back. Me and Abdullah will go back and check the tower. The rest of you keep looking around here.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Aladdin cursed under his breath. It was just his luck that Razoul, the captain of the guard and the only halfway intelligent one in the whole city, would be after them tonight. It was time to improvise. He whispered new orders to Abu, and the monkey saluted before moving off to execute them. Aladdin chanced a look down at the street and saw four guards searching the area and one more heading back down the street with Razoul. He counted the seconds, clenching and unclenching his fists in impatience.

He didn’t have long to wait, as he soon heard a simian shriek from a block away. The guards immediately rushed en masse in that direction. Seeing that they were suitably distracted, Aladdin pulled himself up onto the roof and ran as fast as he could for the tower. He knew a shorter way than what Razoul was taking, but the man had a head start on him. He pushed himself faster, almost reckless in his headlong dash across the rooftops. He had to get to Yasmin before they did.

Aladdin made it to the tower in record time, flying through the door and taking the stairs two at a time. He just barely remembered to duck in time to avoid hitting his head on the exposed beams. He burst into the room at the top, gasping for breath, and took in the scene before him.

The room that had once been his home stood almost as he had left it, deserted but for one person. Aladdin was beyond relieved to see Yasmin standing framed in the window, holding a bundle in her arms. She looked frightened at first, but when she realized it was Aladdin, she was noticeably relieved.

“Aladdin! I thought you were a—“

“I know, but they’re right behind me. We have to get out of here.” He grabbed her hand and led her back to the stairs, but just as they reached them they heard footsteps and saw a shadow moving on the wall. It was too late. The guards had arrived.

Aladdin pulled Yasmin back into the room, thinking fast. There was no cover in the room itself, nowhere to hide. The only other exit was through the window…

Aladdin jumped up on the broken wall and looked down. They could make it…if they were lucky.

He turned back to Yasmin, whose eyes were still fixed on the stairs where the guards were drawing ever closer. What Aladdin had in mind would quite literally require a tremendous leap of faith on her part. He held out his hand to her.

“Do you trust me?”

The girl looked at him with fear and confusion in her eyes, but a look on her face that clearly said, ‘What kind of stupid question is that?’

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation, and put her hand in his.

“Then jump!” he shouted, and without further ado, he pulled her out of the window into space.

As his feet left the stone wall, Aladdin looked ahead and saw the palace silhouetted against the backdrop of moon and stars. For a moment, he almost felt like he was flying. Then gravity kicked in and they began to freefall. Yasmin shrieked, and Aladdin almost did the same. He felt like his stomach was trying to make a bid for freedom through his throat, and he could feel his heart pounding like there was no tomorrow—and for all Aladdin knew in that moment, maybe there wouldn’t be.

Luckily, they fell right through the broken dome below them and into the cloth hanging that he had been aiming for, and Aladdin felt a split second of relief—before he heard the hanging rip and he and Jasmine were falling once again.

Aladdin barely had time to utter a prayer though before he and Yasmin landed on something surprisingly soft. By some miracle, there was a pile of sand there to break their fall. Aladdin didn’t waste any time on feeling relieved. He jumped up, pulling Yasmin with him, and ran for the exit.

“Gotcha!” Aladdin heard someone yell, and in the same moment he felt a hard tug on his vest pulling him off balance. A hand closed over his throat and squeezed, lifting him right off the ground. 

“Well, well, looks like I’ve caught myself a street rat!” the man snarled, and Aladdin recognized his voice. It was Razoul. He must have sent the other one in to flush them out, and he’d just waited down here to catch them when they flew the coop.

Aladdin pulled at Razoul’s hand, trying to twist himself free, but Razoul was the stronger of them by far. Aladdin tried to redouble his efforts, but he was already out of breath from running and the hand closing off his windpipe was making it nearly impossible to get any air. He began to see blackness at the edges of his vision.

Razoul seemed to sense him weakening because he cackled. “It’s the dungeon for you, bo—“

_CRASH!_

Aladdin heard a sound like something shattering. Razoul yelled and his hand slackened its grip just enough to allow Aladdin to draw a breath. He took advantage of the opening and slammed his elbow into his captor’s stomach. He heard the man grunt in pain as he released Aladdin’s throat.

Aladdin looked around for Yasmin and found her standing near, holding the remnants of a broken clay urn, fragments of which were scattered all around. A huge smile split his face.

“Way to go, sweetheart!” he said. Then he grabbed her hand once more and they ran off into the night, followed only by sound of Razoul’s foul cursing.

♣ ♣

Aladdin was more tired than he’d ever been in his life. It had been a long and trying week. Starting it off right, they’d infiltrated the tower and stolen Yasmin’s clothes right under the guards’ noses. Then they had worked around the clock to lay their plans without being caught by the guards, who seemed to take the tower escapade as a personal insult and had redoubled their efforts to capture them. This morning, everything had finally been in place, and they had sold the clothes.

The clothes had been easier to sell than he’d expected. Yasmin had told him what each item was worth, so he wouldn’t be cheated by the shopkeeper they’d carefully selected. His old friend, the beggar, had been able to help with that. He knew more or less a little bit of everything that went on in Agrabah. He knew which shops did some fencing on the side and which merchants wouldn’t ask questions, and he also pointed out which ones would be able to afford their price. Then all Aladdin had to do was steal some nicer clothes from a laundry line in the more well-to-do part of town to dress the part.

When he’d walked into that shop he’d been nervous, but the merchant was obviously fooled by his appearance and invited him in to talk business. When he saw the merchandise, however, he gave Aladdin a hard look. Aladdin was afraid that he was suspicious, but he met the man’s gaze with his face carefully composed to betray nothing. True to the beggar’s description of him though, the man didn’t ask where the items had come from, nor why Aladdin wanted to get rid of them. He simply examined the clothes, scoffed at their quality, and offered Aladdin a ridiculously low sum. That had started off the long round of bargaining that the beggar had warned him he’d have to endure, and endure it he did. In the end, after haggling, arguing, bluffing, and beating the price up, Aladdin closed the deal with a profit he, at least, was satisfied with. He hoped it would be enough.

He and Yasmin both knew that they needed to get out of Agrabah as soon as possible after they sold the clothes. The items were very distinctive, and it was likely that they would be recognized as hers. They would be a clue for anyone smart enough to follow it to find them. They would need to be on their way early the very next morning.

Therefore, the rest of the day had been spent shopping for all the supplies that they did not yet have. It felt very strange indeed to Aladdin to buy so many things with actual money in one day. It was an almost surreal experience to peruse merchants’ wares dressed in fine clothes as a legitimate customer. He was almost glad when they were finished and he could go back to sneaking down side streets.

Now dusk was falling, and Aladdin and Yasmin were in a stable, packing up their supplies and getting everything ready to go for the morning. They spoke little—they were both tired—but Aladdin watched the girl out of the corner of his eye as she loaded a bag with food. There was something bothering him that had been growing steadily stronger all week. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about it though, so for now he kept silent. But he knew that he was running out of time.

Just as the sun slipped below the horizon, a man arrived at the stable with a camel. He looked around until he spotted Aladdin, then led the camel over to them. Aladdin greeted him and the man nodded back, then began loading the goods onto the camel. Aladdin gave him a hand, but they didn’t say much to each other. Their deal had already been worked out three days ago, when Aladdin had hired him.

Finally, when all the supplies had been loaded, the man held out his hand and Aladdin gave him what they had agreed: half of the pay for hiring the camel and driver. The man again did not speak, but only counted the money. Satisfied, he nodded to Aladdin and led the camel away.

Aladdin wrapped an arm around Yasmin’s shoulders. “Well, that’s it. Now the only thing left to do is get some rest. Big day tomorrow, and all.”

Yasmin smiled at him. “I know. I’m so tired, but I don’t know if I can sleep. I’m too excited. Or maybe I’m nervous…”

“Maybe both. I know I am.” Aladdin sighed. “C’mon, Abu! Let’s go find a place to sleep.” The monkey hopped onto his shoulder and yawned. “Yeah, I feel you, little friend.”

Aladdin stepped out of the stable, his arm still wrapped around Yasmin’s shoulders. He wondered what to do about Abu. The monkey was not made for the desert. It would be very hard on him. He wasn’t even sure he and Yasmin could make it, let alone Abu. There were all kinds of dangers outside the city walls that Abu had never faced…

Aladdin was still pondering this when he turned down an alley and nearly tripped over something in the dark. The something squeaked and moved, curling up in a ball.

“Aladdin!” Yasmin gasped. “Look! It’s our little friends!”

And so it was. The thing that Aladdin had tripped over was the little boy, and nearby was the girl. It seemed that they were trying to sleep there, in the dark alley. They had shrunk into the wall at the pair’s approach, but when they heard Yasmin’s voice they sprang up immediately.

Yasmin enveloped the girl in a hug, while Aladdin knelt down and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The boy, whose name they had discovered was Rami, shook his head, grinning. “Good. I’m sorry about that.”

The boy looked down and dug his big toe into the dirt. “’S okay.”

Aladdin stole a glance at Yasmin, who hadn’t let go of the girl, Najida, yet. Even though it was dark and he couldn’t see her face well, Aladdin could tell that she was holding back tears by the tremble in her voice.

“I’m so glad we bumped into you,” she said. “I was so afraid that we wouldn’t see you before…” Yasmin’s voice broke and she fell silent.

Aladdin took a deep breath and continued where she left off. “We’re leaving Agrabah,” he said.

There was a moment of silence in which he could sense the children’s confused gazes on him.

“When?” asked the little girl.

“Tomorrow morning,” Yasmin whispered.

“Why are you going away?” asked Rami, and his voice was choked with suppressed emotion. Aladdin felt his heart clench. He could almost hear the unsaid, ‘Don’t you like us anymore?’ in the child’s tone. Aladdin knew from experience that boys that young didn’t yet understand that when someone leaves their life, it’s not necessarily because they want to.

Aladdin placed both hands on Rami’s shoulders, and the boy looked down to hide his tears. “We can’t stay here anymore because it’s too dangerous. Bad people are looking for us, and if they caught us they would lock us in the dungeon and throw away the key. If we stay here in Agrabah, we would go to prison and you would never see us again. But if we leave, we would be free. The bad people wouldn’t find us, and maybe they’ll eventually forget about us. Then we would be able to come back, and we could see each other again.”

Aladdin put his hand under Rami’s chin, feeling the tears that had dripped down his face, and lifted the child’s face so he could look him in the eye. He gave the boy the most reassuring smile he could manage. “So don’t worry. We’ll see each other again someday. Just keep your chin up, kid.”

Rami lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Aladdin’s neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Aladdin rubbed his back, trying to soothe him, but knowing that there was little comfort he could give to ease their parting. He knew the children felt abandoned by two of the only people who had ever cared about them. Even he felt like he was abandoning these kids, though he knew that there was nothing he could do about it. He felt tears pricking his own eyes.

Aladdin looked over and saw that Najida had also buried her face in Yasmin’s skirt, shoulders shaking. Yasmin stroked her hair, tears shining in her eyes. She looked at Aladdin and caught him watching her. “Are you sure we can’t…” she whispered, trailing off before finishing her thought. Aladdin knew what she wanted to say. He shook his head. There was no way they could bring two little kids with them across the desert. They’d never make it.

Abu, realizing the gravity of the situation, came up and laid a little hand on Aladdin’s knee, comforting him. His funny face looked very serious in the dark of the alley. Suddenly, Aladdin knew what to do. He could solve both of his problems at once, but it would be hard to convince everyone, including himself, that this was the best decision.

He took a deep breath and looked down at the monkey. “Abu, I have a job for you.” Abu immediately sprang to attention. “Your mission, should you choose to accept, is to take care of these two pipsqueaks.”

Abu let out a surprised squawk. Aladdin heard Yasmin gasp, and Rami stopped crying with a startled hiccup.

Aladdin let go of the boy and reached instead for Abu. The little monkey grabbed the proffered hand and looked up at Aladdin, clearly confused. Aladdin smiled sadly at him. “C’mon little buddy. They need your help. And the desert is no place for a monkey.”

Abu seemed to consider this for a moment, looking at Rami, then back to Aladdin, then back to the little boy. Finally, the monkey sighed and jumped up on Rami’s shoulder. The child grinned, excited, and reached up to touch Abu’s tail. Najida also came closer to see. Aladdin reached over and ruffled the fur on Abu’s head. “I’m gonna miss you, Abu,” he whispered. Abu grabbed his hand in both his little ones and held on until Aladdin pulled away to stand up. 

He fished around in his pocket and found a few coins, which he gave to Najida. She whispered her thanks with tears brimming in her eyes and wet tracks on her cheeks. “Don’t spend it all in one place, alright?” he said, still trying to keep a brave face.

He felt Yasmin take his hand, and he looked at her. Her eyes were bright with tears, but she too was trying to be strong for the children. She smiled at them and gave Rami the loaf of bread that she had originally purchased for their own supper. “It’s time for us to go now,” she said, and her voice shook a little. “You three take care of yourselves, and each other, and perhaps we’ll see one another again someday.”

She and Aladdin hugged and kissed each of the children and scratched Abu behind the ears one last time. Then Aladdin took Yasmin’s hand and led her away, down the alley and around a corner, out of sight. He didn’t look back. He was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to withstand the sight of the children and the monkey alone in the dark night. Blinking back tears, he looked at Yasmin. The moonlight shimmered in her eyes, and in the wetness on her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently these kids have names in the TV series, which I haven’t seen. I decided to ignore that, however, and give them my own names. According to my sources, Rami means ‘loving’ and Najida means ‘courageous, one who accomplishes difficult tasks.’ I thought that would be more or less appropriate for them. And no, we haven’t seen the last of these two, but you’ll just have to hang in there to find out what happens to them. Thanks for reading and reviewing, you guys!
> 
> ln(♪)


	9. Queen of Hearts

Aladdin knew that sleep would be difficult to find tonight. It didn’t matter that they had a roof over their heads for once (since they had taken shelter in an abandoned house on the edge of the city), or that they had more blankets than usual from their new supplies. It didn’t even make a difference that he was tired and needed rest. There were simply too many thoughts and feelings swimming through his mind for him to relax.

He was still feeling down after seeing the children. Logically, he knew that they weren’t his family and he owed them nothing, and also that he had already done his best to help them out despite this and despite the fact that he was little better off than they were. He knew this, but the fact remained that he still felt like he had failed them somehow. Ever since that day he had taken a whipping for them, Aladdin had felt responsible for those two kids. He’d grown fond of them in the short time he’d known them, in no small part because he saw himself in them. He remembered very well his own hard upbringing in the streets of Agrabah, and knew what it was like for these two. But they had one advantage that he had not: each other. Aladdin could see that they relied on each other to get them through each day. They each had someone to love and love them in return as long as they were together. Aladdin hoped it would be enough.

He also felt sore about leaving Abu behind. Abu may be only a bad-tempered monkey to most people, but he was Aladdin’s oldest friend. He was really going to miss that little terror. It was for the best, though. He didn’t think that Abu would be able to make the dangerous desert crossing. He was certain that the children would take good care of him though, and the kleptomaniac monkey would be of use to the kids as well. Aladdin was pretty sure that Abu didn’t fully understand why he was being left behind, but he hoped the monkey would forgive him for it anyway.

All these things plus the upcoming journey were weighing on his mind and heart, making him restless, but these paled in comparison to the main reason for him losing sleep. It was an issue that had yet to be addressed, but now was the time to do it and he had no idea how to start. He watched Yasmin as she spread out the mat and blankets and readied herself for sleep, taking down her long hair and combing it out with her fingers. Aladdin reflected that however this turned out, this may be the last time he saw her like this. He felt a sudden, fierce desire to take her in his arms and kiss her as deeply as he could, but he restrained himself. It wouldn’t make what he had to do next any easier.

Yasmin turned around and caught him looking at her. She met his gaze and raised one eyebrow, questioning what he was staring at with a look. Aladdin’s time was up. He had to do it now.

“Yasmin, do you ever think about going back home and making up with your father?” he asked, working to keep his voice steady.

Yasmin’s eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, it looked like she would just wave the question away, but something about Aladdin’s tone and manner and the way he had mentioned her father must have alerted her that Aladdin wasn’t going to let this go, because instead she sighed and looked at him with a searching glance.

“Aladdin, why are you asking me this?”

Aladdin didn’t hesitate. “Because I think you should consider it, if you haven’t already. But I think you already have, haven’t you?”

Yasmin did not answer the question, but again returned with one of her own. “Why do you think I should go back?” She said it almost like a challenge, like she expected an answer she wouldn’t like.

“I never said—“ Aladdin automatically reacted defensively, but stopped himself. He hadn’t said it, but that’s what he had meant anyway. He took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush of air. “Alright. Yes, I do think that. The way I see it, you’re risking your life needlessly. You’ve lived in poverty for weeks, and now you’re planning to flee with me across a hostile desert, and if we live through that, which isn’t guaranteed, we have only more long years of poverty to look forward to.”

Aladdin paused, unsure how to proceed. “You told me why you ran away,” he continued hesitantly. “You don’t want to get married. But is it worth throwing your life away for it? You still have a home and a father. I’m sure he misses you. I know I would miss you if I were in his place. Maybe he’ll be so happy to see you back that he won’t make you get married…”

Aladdin swallowed hard and looked down. He couldn’t go on. He was afraid that if he did, she’d sense his insincerity. He should want her to go home. He should want her to make up with her father and live the life she deserved, rich, comfortable, and happy. And a part of him did want all that, which was the part he was trying to give voice to now. But another part, a part larger than he wished to admit, wanted her to stay. He wanted her to stay for purely selfish reasons.

He loved her. Despite his original intentions and the precautions he’d taken, he’d fallen in love with her anyway. It was so hard not to though; he just couldn’t help it! He’d never met any girl so smart and fun, not to mention beautiful. He realized that this did nothing to reconcile the warring factions of his heart. Because he loved her, he wanted her to go home and be happy. Also because he loved her, he wanted her to stay with him. Or, more accurately, he wanted to be with her, wherever she went, but he could see no way of that ever happening if she went home. Her father wouldn’t want him around. Besides, he had to leave Agrabah. There was no longer any choice for him—it was that or the dungeons. But she could still stay here, under her father’s protection.

He had acted just now on what he knew to be the right course of action, the nobler option. Wanting her to stay with him was completely self-centered, and he knew that, but it still hurt. He really didn’t want to be alone again, as he had been for so many years. Especially not now after he’d known, even for so short a time, what it was like to have someone there for him, with him, whom he could talk to and rely on. Maybe _that_ was the real reason he hadn’t made any close friends before. The inevitable parting hurt too much.

Yasmin was silent for a long time. Aladdin didn’t look up, but he felt her eyes on him, studying him. Finally, she spoke. “Aladdin, look at me.”

Aladdin lifted his eyes until they met hers, but he could not tell what she was thinking. Her expression was guarded and betrayed nothing.

She continued. “Do you really want me to go back home and leave you? Is that really what you want?”

Aladdin tried to hold her gaze to show his sincerity, but he couldn’t help glancing down as he answered, “Yes.”

Yasmin’s expression did not change. Her eyes seemed to pierce his very body to peer into his soul. “I don’t believe you.”

Aladdin started to protest, to begin his argument again, but she crossed the space between them and held a finger up to his lips, silencing him.

“I think I know why you’re telling me this now, and I owe you an explanation.” She sighed and removed her hand from his mouth, but Aladdin remained silent. He respected her wish to explain her side of things, but he was still convinced that his was the best course of action.

“You’re right, Aladdin. I do miss my father. I’m certain he misses me too. He was the only person I cared for, but I know he won’t be with me forever. By law, I cannot inherit…his wealth after his death because I am a woman. But my husband could. So you see, maybe he would push my marriage back a few years, but I would eventually have to get married to someone of his choosing. That’s just the way things are.”

Yasmin paused, then continued slowly. “Maybe I don’t really know anything about what it’s like to be poor. I’m still learning about that, the hard way. But you don’t really know what it’s like to be rich. It’s not exactly the idyllic paradise you imagine, at least not for women like me. I was _trapped_ , Aladdin. I _had_ to marry someone, but none of the suitors that were acceptable to my father were acceptable to me.”

Suddenly, Yasmin became agitated and spoke faster, her fists clenching, eyes narrowed. “Do you think that they came to call on me because they wanted to get to know me? Of course not! All they cared about is that my father was wealthy and powerful, and they would stand to inherit all that if I were their wife. They came to me with words of love, even though they didn’t know the first thing about me! They only told me what they thought I wanted to hear. _None_ of them cared. So I chased them all off.”

Aladdin was a bit stunned. He had never heard Yasmin talk so much about her past, and he had not imagined the level of disgust she felt for her arranged marriage. He felt like a fool—he really should have realized all this before now.

Yasmin wasn’t finished yet. “The night before I ran away, I realized something. It was as if I could see my whole life stretching out before me. One of these days, my father would choose a suitor for me. I would be married, duty-bound to show devotion to a man who cares nothing for me, and locked away behind walls for the rest of my life, as I have always been. I knew what that would do to me. I would be sad at first, I’m sure, but I’d learn to suppress my emotions. I’d end up cold and callous, like other women I’d seen in the same situation.

“I realized in that moment that I would do anything to prevent that future. I was afraid, and maybe I acted rashly, but I know my reasoning wasn’t clouded. I did the only thing I could do to have my freedom and take my future into my own hands. I ran away.”

Yasmin stopped then and looked down. Silence reigned. Aladdin didn’t know what to say, so he remained speechless. He realized now just how clueless he was about this girl. He was amazed at the risk she had taken. Perhaps it was foolish to run away, but it was also extremely brave. And hearing now for the first time why she had really done it, he knew that it was a cause worth fighting for. He may not understand her situation completely, but he at least knew what it was like to be trapped. After all, what wouldn’t he give to be free of the guards’ persecution and the stigma everyone held against him because he was a poor thief? Wasn’t that what this entire venture was all about, risking everything to run away and start a new life?

His thoughts were interrupted when Yasmin suddenly looked up into his eyes and took a small step closer. “You seem to think that I don’t want to get married, but that’s not entirely true. I just don’t want to marry someone I don’t love and who doesn’t love me. You ask me why I sentence myself to a life of poverty and hardship that I do not have to endure, but to me the answer is easy.” Yasmin closed the short distance between them and put her hands in his. “In this life, I’ve finally found what I really want. I have my choice. I have freedom. And I have you.”

Then her lips were on his, kissing him with more passion than he’d ever felt from her before. Aladdin responded in kind, wrapping her in his arms and holding her close as she put her arms around his neck to bring herself that much closer. Their tongues twined and danced until they broke apart gasping for breath, only to join their mouths again almost immediately. Every inch of Aladdin’s skin seemed more sensitive; he felt every little move and touch Yasmin made. A fire sprang to life in his belly, the heat growing and spreading throughout his body with every muffled sound of pleasure from Yasmin.

Finally they broke apart for air once more. Yasmin looked up and met Aladdin’s gaze, and he could see an answering fire in her eyes.

“So,” she said, slightly breathless, “do you still want me to leave?”

“No,” Aladdin answered, and he meant it. He was no longer conflicted. They had both made their choice, and the reasons were clear to him now. “I love you, Yasmin.”

The girl smiled, and Aladdin thought he would never tire of seeing it. “I know,” she said, and kissed him again, long and slow. When she pulled away, she said, “And I hope you know now that I love you, Aladdin. But if you don’t, allow me to show you…” And with that she kissed him again, but with more of the passion from before. Her hands tangled in his hair as his roamed her back, tracing her shoulders and spine through the cloth of her dress.

Then Yasmin slowly and deliberately rolled her hips against his, and Aladdin, caught completely by surprise, broke the kiss to bite back a groan. He was suddenly very aware of the blood rushing to his groin. “Yasmin, what—“ he began, but she pulled his head back to hers and resumed kissing him. After a second, her hands left his hair and traveled across his collarbones, pushing his vest off his shoulders. Aladdin broke the kiss again.

“Yasmin,” he breathed, but couldn’t think how to word what he was trying to ask. He settled instead for asking the question with his eyes.

The girl just smiled at him. “Let me show you,” she said again, and kissed him as she gently pulled him down with her onto the blankets.


	10. Ace of Hearts

The sun wasn’t up yet, and so very few people were about to see the two shadows sliding along alleyways, making their way to the edge of town. They were so silent that even those who were already awake at this early hour didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. No one witnessed their flight except for perhaps the stars, and if they took notice then they kept their silence.

Jasmine paused behind Aladdin as they took a moment to look out for any signs they were being observed. They were hand in hand, as they had been ever since leaving their hideout. She felt Aladdin squeeze her fingers as they moved forward once more, a silent reassurance, and she returned the gesture.

This was the riskiest thing Jasmine had ever attempted, and that included running away from home without so much as a single coin. This whole plan was just taking the running one step further. When she had absconded from the palace, she hadn’t really thought about the risks too much, mostly because she was largely ignorant of them. Now she knew better. They were fleeing into a hostile environment armed with nothing more than a pack each containing food and water for three days. There was a definite possibility she would die in the desert and no one would even know what became of her.

She knew all this, and yet she also knew that she was making the right decision. She was prepared to face the heat and cold of the desert, the scarce food and even scarcer water, and the many days of walking ahead. She was prepared to face all this and more, as long as Aladdin was at her side.

Last night she had joined her body with Aladdin’s, but the experience had been so much more than physical for her. She had felt different after, not in her flesh, but in her heart. The act of love had changed her feelings for him ever so slightly, but profoundly. She had loved him before, but now that she knew what it felt like to be his, completely, she knew that she wanted to remain his for the rest of her life.

She thought it was strange how she had fallen so quickly for this boy who had nothing, when not a single prince in the long line of her suitors had managed to grab her attention for more than a moment. Strange also how only weeks ago she had been completely opposed to her impending marriage, had run away from home specifically to avoid it, but now did not think marriage would be so bad if Aladdin were the one she were marrying. She already felt that she was married to him in body and soul, if not by law.

But she knew also that as a princess, she would never be allowed to be with him. All the new, good feelings she had discovered since she met him would be gone, and she would be alone again.

It was time to leave her old life for good.

As they approached the gate, Aladdin dropped her hand and adjusted his pack across his back. For her part, Jasmine made sure her face was covered by the hijab she wore, the better to conceal her identity. She eyed the guards as they drew nearer the gate. They looked tired, and seemed to only be half paying attention to the thin line of people leaving the city. Perhaps they would be able to make it without incident after all.

Jasmine’s stomach was tying itself in knots. They were almost there. Just a few more steps…

Suddenly, and without any warning, she felt a tug on her hijab. It fell off, baring her face. She gasped and whirled around, coming face to face with a guard standing just behind her. He leered at her and grabbed her arm. “Lookee what I caught, boys!” he called to the other guards. “Razoul’s two favorite street rats!”

Jasmine wasted no time on the fear that exploded in her heart. Instead she brought her knee up sharply into her assailant’s groin, which resulted in a groan of pain and his immediate release of her arm. She turned back toward the gate, but saw that it was now blocked by the guards, and more were closing in fast. She froze, unsure what to do.

Aladdin, however, was already in motion. He seized her hand and pulled her toward the gatehouse, the only avenue that yet remained unblocked by guards. It was a crazy plan—there were sure to be more guards in the gatehouse—but Jasmine had to trust that Aladdin knew what he was doing.

They flew through the door and up the stairs, the guards shouting and stampeding after them. One guard came rushing down the stairs towards them, and Aladdin grabbed his arm and used his momentum to send him flying headfirst into the oncoming mob. Jasmine did not dare waste time to look back and see if it would slow them up. She kept her feet moving, pounding up the stairs after Aladdin. She gasped for breath and her legs started to ache, but she could still hear the sounds of pursuit, and she knew that they would soon be trapped at the top of the tower.

They dashed into what looked to be the armory. Aladdin slammed the door after them and bolted it, then overturned a rack of spears. It landed with a crash and a clatter right in front of the door, blocking their pursuers. His mouth set in a grim frown, Aladdin grabbed a sword from another rack, as well as a coil of rope, and started for the stairs on the other side of the room, Jasmine right behind him.

One more flight of stairs, and they emerged, panting, on the battlements. But there was no time to rest, for one more guard was ready and waiting for them. Unlike the one that had dashed down the stairs, this one had heard the noise of the chase and was prepared for them. Aladdin barely had time to raise his sword to block the first downward swing of the guard’s weapon.

The two men faced off, swords raised, the guard sneering, Aladdin grim and determined. “It’s over, street rat,” the guard laughed. “There’s nowhere to go from here. The only way down is back the way you came, and every guard posted on this gate is after you. No point in resisting now.”

“So, what? You’re expecting me to just give up and play dead?” Aladdin flashed a grin, but there was no humor in his expression.

“I was thinking of something a little more permanent than playing,” the guard growled, and swung his sword again.

Aladdin managed to block him, but Jasmine could see right away that he was outmatched. Aladdin held the sword awkwardly—it was probably his first sword fight, while the man facing him was a professional who knew how to use the weapon. Jasmine cast around frantically for something, anything she could use. She had to do something to help or Aladdin would be killed.

She snatched up a spear lying propped against the battlements. The guard was stupidly ignoring her, secure in his belief that a mere woman was no threat. She swung it with all her might at the guard from behind, and the haft of the spear connected with the backs of his knees. He cried out, stumbled, and fell, leaving himself open for Aladdin to bring the pommel of his sword down on his temple, stunning him.

Aladdin looked at her, taking in her white-knuckled grip on the spear, her heaving shoulders, her flushed face, and finally met her eyes. He smiled at her. “How’d I ever live without you?” he said softly, as though talking to himself.

Jasmine felt a rush of warmth at his words, replacing the stark fear that gripped her. She gave him a shaky smile back and reached for him. He gathered her in his arms and hugged her. Their embrace was brief but firm, and seemed to convey what words could not at that moment.

Then the moment was over, and Aladdin swept up the rope he had dropped. He crossed the roof to the edge of the wall and tied the rope tight to the battlements as Jasmine watched for their pursuers, spear still in hand. When he was satisfied the rope was secure, he held his hand out to Jasmine. “Ladies first,” he grinned, and she laid her spear down and allowed him to help her over the edge of the wall onto the rope.

This was, again, something Jasmine had never done before: shin down a wall with only a rope to hang on to. But this was the only way out, and she was going to give it her best shot. The wind was high, and plucked at her clothes and hair, causing the rope to sway more than she was comfortable with. It took her a few shaky tries to get her hands and feet situated, Aladdin whispering instructions and encouragement all the while. She began to move tentatively down the rope, her feet braced against the wall. Once she was several feet down, Aladdin swung himself over the wall onto the rope as well, far more graceful than she had been.

It was then that the lull in the danger broke. As Aladdin dropped over the wall, Jasmine saw a figure on the battlements. It was the guard they had taken down, who had obviously recovered his senses while they were busy with the rope. She shouted a warning to Aladdin, who looked up in time to see the man raise his sword. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to defend himself. He’d had to leave the sword behind so he could use both hands to navigate the rope. Now he clung to the rope with his right hand while he raised the other to protect his face from the blade that was slashing down upon him.

Jasmine heard his pained cry and watched with her heart in her throat as his grip on the rope slackened and he began to fall. The guard made a wild lunge to grab him, but the move was poorly conceived. He may have been still dizzy from his head wound, or he may have just been caught up in the moment, but he missed his target entirely. He gave one startled cry as he overbalanced and tumbled over the parapet to the ground far below.

Jasmine was not focusing on the guard just then—her more immediate concern was Aladdin. He was sliding down the rope, unable to maintain a one-handed grip, and he would soon be on top of her. Jasmine did the only thing she could think to do. She took her feet from their braced position on the wall in front of her and slid down as fast as she could.

She could feel her palms instantly heat up and begin to burn, abrading on the rough rope. She didn’t let go or stop though, just closed her eyes and prayed that she would survive this. Before she knew it, the rope had left her hands completely and she was falling the remaining ten feet to the ground. She hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from her lungs, and rolled. She heard the soft thump as Aladdin landed just after her.

Jasmine groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was get up, but it was what needed to happen next if they wanted to get away. She staggered to her feet, head spinning, and looked around. 

Aladdin was still on the ground nearby. She immediately went to him and took his arm to help him up. He hissed in pain, and she quickly withdrew. The palm of her hand came away wet and sticky and dark with a substance she didn’t want to think about. She felt ill. “Aladdin? Are you—“

Aladdin got to his knees, then struggled to his feet. “Come on. We have to get moving,” he said, his voice shaky and hoarse.

“But your arm—“

“I’ll be all right for now.” He paused, looked at the body of the guard crumpled at the base of the wall. “I don’t know if he’s still alive or not. Either way, we’re going to get the blame for it. We have to get out of here.” He met her eyes as he finished speaking, and she could see the fear and pain warring for dominance in his expression. She nodded. It was time to go. He extended his hand to her and she took it once more, curling her fingers around his, trying to draw strength from the way his gripped hers.

Hand in hand they ran, stumbling and slipping in the shifting sand, into the soft glow of the pre-dawn light.


	11. Straight Flush

Aladdin made it as far as their first landmark, a standing stone, before he collapsed.

By then the sun had risen over the horizon, and Jasmine could see clearly how much damage had been done. Aladdin’s left arm was drenched in blood from the elbow down, the sleeve of his shirt soaked with it. It was mostly dried now, but a thin trickle still seeped from the wound. Jasmine felt ill again. It was a terrible sight. She looked at Aladdin, the worry plain on her face.

Aladdin noticed her concern and tried to smile to put her mind at ease. It came out as more of a grimace. “I don’t think it’s nearly as bad as it looks,” he said, but Jasmine just shook her head.

“We have to clean it,” she said, reaching for the water skin, but Aladdin stopped her.

“We don’t have enough water to waste on this right now,” he said, sighing. “We’ll have to wait until the oasis.”

Jasmine shook her head. “If you get an infection now, we won’t even make it to the oasis. Better to do this now and ration our water.” Aladdin sighed, but didn’t protest further. Jasmine turned to retrieve supplies from her pack to dress his wound.

When she reached for his arm, however, he stopped her, taking one of her hands carefully in his. “What’s this?” he asked, frowning at her palm. He caught up her other hand and examined it as well, holding them gently.

The palms of Jasmine’s hands were red and raw and bloodied in a few places from her hasty descent on the rope. Jasmine had nearly forgotten the rope burn, but now that her attention had been drawn back to it, she noticed the throbbing pain in her hands.

“It’s from the rope,” she answered him. “It’s nothing.” 

Aladdin frowned. “It’s not nothing. Let me bind it for you.”

Jasmine looked up into Aladdin’s eyes and found them filled with concern for her. She nearly huffed in exasperation. How could he be more concerned for _her_ when _he_ might be bleeding out from a serious injury? But at the same time, her heart melted just a little at this sign of his esteem for her. It was yet another way that he let her know how much he loved her. She had to concede to his request.

“All right,” she said. “As long as you let me bind yours first.” Aladdin nodded and Jasmine moved once more to examine his arm, wondering how they were going to carry out the rest of their plan when it had already gone so badly awry.

The plan for escaping Agrabah was simple, but required some finesse to pull off. They had wanted to get out of the city without being seen, though they had known it was unlikely to happen that way. But even if things had gone to plan and they weren’t seen leaving, the guards would surely miss them after a few days and realize that they may have skipped town. The nearest town to Agrabah was three days away, the road much travelled and easy to follow. It was not such a trek for two travelers to make, so it would be expected that they had travelled that route.

The other danger of this town, as well as many of the other towns surrounding Agrabah, is that it was small. Travelers passing through were remarked by the inhabitants with a ready eye, since most of the townspeople made their livings catering to them. A young couple traveling alone and on foot would be easy to recall to the guards when they inevitably followed.

What they wanted was a larger town, where they could easily disappear in the throng. The only problem was that a town like that was at least ten days’ travel away, and the road there passed through a couple of smaller villages along the way.

It was the old beggar man that had come up with the solution. He had been a smuggler in his younger years, and he knew of all the secret routes into and out of Agrabah. He had told them of a smuggling route that would lead them directly to Dhuuma, a tolerably large city to the northeast of Agrabah and outside the sultanate. The route was seven days of traveling through the desert, by way of an oasis where they could stop for water. The old man had told them exactly how to find this route, and also gave them some advice.

“If ye want to throw the guards off yer trail, laddie, ye should bluff ‘em into thinking ye’re headed somewhere else. Send most of yer baggage along to the oasis in the care of someone else, and take only enough in yer packs to get ye there. Those guards’ll see yer small packs and assume yer headin’ for the village to the east, like any reasonable person would. They’ll never think ye’d be fool enough to try to cross the desert on foot with no supplies.”

And thus was their escape plan formed. They had sent extra supplies ahead to the oasis with the camel and its smuggler owner. Then they had tried to sneak out of the city unnoticed, but things had gone south. 

Jasmine cursed the bad luck that seemed to be following them as she cleaned Aladdin’s arm, wincing and muttering apologies every time he flinched in pain. The wound was long, stretching from the outside of his wrist almost to his elbow, but after washing away some of the blood, Jasmine didn’t think it seemed too deep. Aladdin was right—it had looked worse than it really was. Even the smallest wounds could get infected, though, and that was the last thing they needed right now.

Cleaning the wound had reopened it and caused it to bleed again, so Jasmine bound it with a clean strip of cloth she tore from one of their new garments. She hoped that would be enough. She had nothing with which to make a healing poultice, not that she would know how to make one even if she had the ingredients. She made Aladdin take a drink of water, then took one herself before helping him to his feet.

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

After several hours of walking, Aladdin almost felt that he could go no further. His arm hurt like hell, and so did his head where he had hit it upon the ground during their fall from the battlements. The adrenaline from their flight had long since worn off, leaving him lightheaded from pain, exhaustion, and blood loss. The heat wasn’t helping matters either; the sun was merciless in its assault on this barren landscape where there was nowhere to escape from it.

Aladdin wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for days, but he knew that wasn’t an option. Instead he kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, counting his steps to distract himself and get into a rhythm. He never seemed to be able to make it to ten though. After just a few steps his thoughts would wander for an instant or his arm or head would throb with pain and he would lose his place and have to start counting over again.

Though his thoughts were mostly occupied with summoning the strength to put one foot in front of the other, he was still aware of Yasmin’s presence, and tried to watch her out of the corner of his eye to make sure she was all right. She seemed to be doing fine, though—better than he was, in fact. His heart swelled with pride for her. She had faced so much in the past couple of months and had come through it still standing strong. She was amazing. Aladdin had no idea what he’d done to deserve her.

Last night had been the best night of Aladdin’s young life. Despite their misunderstandings and the danger hanging over both their heads, they had come together in a way that he’d only ever dreamed of. It had gone beyond the physical act, bringing out something deep inside him that he’d never felt before. He could feel a greater connection to Yasmin now than ever before. He never wanted to be separated from her again. He would follow her anywhere, take her anywhere, so long as he could be near her. Even if she chose to return to her father’s house in Agrabah, he would follow, even if it should mean his death.

After another hour of walking, Aladdin was beginning to have serious difficulties. He had stumbled several times in the last hour, and he had even fallen once, but was able to get to his feet again unaided.

As the sun neared its zenith, however, Aladdin fell once more, and this time he did not get up. He knelt in the sand, his breath harsh in his parched throat and mouth. Yasmin was at his side immediately, hands moving over his face and shoulders, saying something he couldn’t hear over the rushing noise in his ears. Her hands retreated for a moment, and then they returned, offering him a water skin. Aladdin accepted it with trembling hands and took a long draught. 

The black spots in his vision gradually subsided and he looked up at Yasmin’s worried face. “I think I need to rest a few minutes.”

Yasmin nodded. “You should sit. Let me check your bandages.”

Aladdin settled himself on the sand and let Yasmin fuss over his arm, though it had stopped bleeding long ago. Now that he was no longer focused on putting one foot in front of the other, he could see that Yasmin was weary too. They needed to rest, but they would not get it for many more days.

After Yasmin had finished with his bandages, Aladdin insisted on checking her hands as well. They were still raw, but they had stopped bleeding. Aladdin wished he had some ointment to give her that would soothe the burn. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring some of their medical supplies with them in their packs.

Yasmin passed him some dried dates and they ate in exhausted silence for a while. It was Yasmin who broke the quiet first.

“Do you think they’ll come after us?”

Aladdin hesitated for a moment before answering. “Yes, they will. Whatever they want us for, they’re not going to give up just because we’ve left the city. Hopefully they fell for our ruse, though, and think we’re headed for a small town. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll think we perished in the desert when they can’t find us in the nearby villages.” 

Aladdin took another date, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. “I looked back just before we were out of sight of the city. There were no guards on the wall, so they must have still been stuck behind the door we barricaded. They probably won’t pursue us until they’ve figured out for sure we’re not in the city and until they get their orders from Razoul, so we ought to have a fairly good head start on them. Not as good as if they hadn’t found us, but I think it’ll be enough.”

Aladdin glanced over at Yasmin and noticed that she was fiddling with a date with a distracted, unhappy air. He moved to take her hand, but remembered her injuries and thought better of it. He put his hand on her shoulder instead, and she jumped at the contact.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“You mean other than running for our lives across a desert?” she groused as she tore the date in half. Aladdin didn’t answer, just rubbed his thumb in soothing strokes on her shoulder. At last she sighed and put the mangled date down.

“I didn’t look back,” she said finally, and Aladdin understood without her having to explain. His arm came around her shoulders to hold her to him as he felt her arms wrap around his waist. Her head came to rest on his shoulder and he kissed the top of it in a wordless gesture of comfort and assurance.

The only home they had now was each other.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

The fourth day of travel dawned bright and clear, with no sign of the elusive oasis.

As the sun had begun to set on their third day of traveling, Jasmine had begun to grow worried. The oasis was nowhere in sight, but according to their sources, they should’ve been within viewing distance of it by now. However, they hadn’t been able to find it before nightfall, so they were forced to make camp and wait until daybreak to resume their trek.

Aladdin insisted that they hadn’t seen it yet because they were traveling slower than they should have been, given their injuries. Jasmine still couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that came with the notion that they may be lost. 

Added to her worry was the fact that they had drunk the last of their water last night. They now had a time limit for finding the oasis, and every hour that ticked by decreased their chances of making it through this alive.

Barely an hour of walking into their fourth day, and Jasmine was already so thirsty that she felt like her mouth and throat were coated with sand. Which was probably not far from the truth—the sand got everywhere despite their preventive measures. It was in their clothes, hair, skin, food, even some in their water before it had run out. The grit was uncomfortable and impossible to get rid of without a long bath.

Ah, a bath… What Jasmine wouldn’t give to have one of those. To even touch cool, clean water again after this hot, dry hell would be a blessing. She mustn’t think of that now though; it really wasn’t helping.

The day dragged on, and they continued to walk in the direction of their destination. They didn’t speak, trying to conserve their strength. Jasmine’s head ached from straining her eyes at the horizon, trying to see through the heat distortion that rose from the endless sands. She tried not to think; it hurt too much.

Around midday they stopped and had a short discussion. As far as they could tell, they were still on the right path to the oasis, so they decided the only thing to do was to press on…and hope.

As they climbed wearily back to their feet, Jasmine thought she saw a vulture overhead. When she looked more closely though, there was nothing. She hoped it was just a mirage.

The afternoon wore on, and their steps began to falter. Jasmine noticed that Aladdin especially was having a hard time, as his injury still pained him. She wished there were something she could do for him, but there was nothing. She had no water to give him, nor was she strong enough to support him.

It seemed they had been walking for ages, and yet all too soon the sun was gliding toward the horizon. They day was almost done, and they had not yet found the oasis. Jasmine’s heart sank. Could they even make it another day? Could they find the oasis before they succumbed to dehydration? She didn’t think she could take another day like this.

Instead of stopping to make camp as they usually did, they kept walking. It was necessary that they find the oasis today, but Jasmine knew that it would be nearly impossible in the dark, which was rapidly approaching.

Then, just as the sun began to disappear, Aladdin paused and straightened, shading his eyes with his hand. “There’s something over there,” he said, his voice hoarse from his dry throat. “Do you see it? Tell me I’m not seeing another mirage.”

Jasmine stood beside him and looked in the direction he was pointing. At first she could see nothing, but as she shifted closer to Aladdin, she thought that she could indeed see a shadow afar off in the distance. Hope fluttered in her heart once more. “I see something, too,” she rasped, and winced at the harsh sound of her own voice.

“Let’s go then, before the light leaves.”

The sight of the shadow gave them new strength, and they hurried on faster than before. However, as they hastened their steps, the sun gradually slipped beneath the horizon and disappeared. The last of the light began to fade. Soon they would no longer be able to see where the shadow was to get to it.

Aladdin paused and looked up, then looked back at the horizon, then looked up again. He did this twice more before continuing on. He noted Jasmine’s curious look and said, “I’m marking where we’re going by the stars. That way they can guide us there when we can’t see anymore.”

They pressed on, the only light now from the moon and stars. Jasmine could no longer see the shadow they were moving toward, but she trusted Aladdin to get them there. If indeed the shadow was more than a mirage. With every minute that passed that did not find them at their destination, Jasmine dreaded more and more that that’s all it had been. She was so exhausted that she could no longer keep her eyes fixed ahead, staring instead at her feet, which she willed to keep moving.

Suddenly she felt Aladdin grab her arm. “Yasmin, look! We made it.” The relief was evident in his voice.

Jasmine looked up, and she saw trees.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Despite their exhaustion before, the water from the oasis had given them a second wind. Jasmine thought it was like drinking the water of life itself after so long without. She could feel it soaking into her body, revitalizing her tired limbs. She now sat on one of their blankets, looking up at the stars. Aladdin lay stretched out beside her, his hand enfolding hers, thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand. She could see the starlight reflected in his eyes as he watched the heavens. She wondered what he was thinking. She herself felt peaceful, but not quite at peace. There was something missing.

She felt Aladdin squeeze her hand, and she looked back at him to find that his attention had switched from the stars to her. Her face must have shown her disquiet, because he raised his eyebrows in a silent question. He had sensed something was bothering her.

She squeezed his hand back as she gathered her thoughts, trying to decide how to put this feeling into words. She began speaking slowly. “Before all this—before I ran away from home—I imagined what it would be like to take off and never look back. I imagined what it would be like to just pick a road and follow it wherever it led.”

“No worries about the future, just what that day would bring?” Aladdin asked, and Jasmine knew that he understood, that he had imagined it too.

“Exactly. I must have thought about it every hour of every day.” She paused. “This isn’t like what I imagined at all,” she continued quietly.

“Well I hope not,” Aladdin said, smiling a bit. “Hope you didn’t imagine being chased by guards, falling off a wall, or nearly dying of dehydration in the desert. That would be pretty grim.”

Jasmine shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. Yeah, I didn’t expect this adventure to be quite so… _adventurous_ , though I did imagine lots of different scenarios, and not all of them were exactly safe. But I always thought leaving everything behind would feel, you know…different.”

Aladdin frowned. “Different how?”

Jasmine sighed. “Well, I thought I would feel…free, I guess.”

Aladdin chuckled drily. “I figure, after a million miles or so, we just _might_ feel like we’re free. Until then, we’ve got the threat of imminent discovery and death hanging over our heads to keep us grounded.”

“I suppose,” Jasmine mumbled, feeling almost hurt by his pessimistic words. He was probably right of course, but it hit just a little too close to home for her. She knew, of course, that living in the palace her whole life had given her unrealistic expectations of the outside world, and her daydreams from that time were childish in their simplicity, but she couldn’t help but feel cheated. Would there ever come a time when they didn’t have to look over their shoulders? Would they ever be free to just live their own lives the way they wanted to without answering to anyone for it?

She felt Aladdin sit up and move behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him, trying to glean some comfort from his nearness.

“I’m sorry I said that,” Aladdin said, a true note of apology in his voice. “It wasn’t very nice.”

“But still true,” Jasmine whispered. Aladdin’s arms tightened around her, holding her closer. For a while they were silent, Jasmine lost in her own dark thoughts.

After a minute or so, she felt Aladdin shift behind her, bringing his head closer to hers. “What were some of the adventures you imagined?” Aladdin murmured in her ear, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. Jasmine’s breath caught as his lips skimmed slowly up and down her neck.

“I, um—I’ve always wanted to see the sea,” Jasmine answered, her eyes fluttering closed as Aladdin began to kiss a line down her throat from her ear and across her shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah?” Aladdin said, and she felt him gather her hair and move it over her other shoulder so he could give the back of her neck and shoulders similar attention.

“Yeah. I’ve seen pictures of the sea, and it looks so amazing. Just—immense, like you could explore it your whole life and never see the same place twice. I imagined sailing away on a boat lots of times.”

“Then we’ll do it,” Aladdin murmured in her ear, his hands brushing slowly up and down her sides.

“Really?” Jasmine asked breathlessly as he nibbled along the line of her throat. She brought one hand up to the back of his head to hold him there.

“Yeah. We’ll set sail on a sea voyage, first chance we get. I can trim the sails and you can steer. Wherever you wanna go.”

Jasmine giggled. “Actually, I never really imagined going anywhere. I just wanted to see the waves rolling under me and watch the horizon disappear. I thought the sea would be like a whole new world.” She sighed. “Completely different from this one.”

“Then we’ll go find this new world. I have to admit, now you’ve got me curious.”

Jasmine turned around in the circle of his arms to face him. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

Aladdin grinned, his eyes soft and serious. “Of course. We can do anything we want now, so we might as well dream big.” He lowered his mouth to hers, drawing her into a long, gentle kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tasting his tongue as it swept her mouth. Despite the chill of the desert night, she suddenly felt very warm. Without breaking their kiss, Aladdin pulled her back with him until they were both laying down, with her stretched out on top of him.

Jasmine could easily have lost herself in his kisses, but there was something she wanted to ask him. She pulled away slightly, brushing the tips of her fingers across Aladdin’s face. 

“What’s your dream, Aladdin? What did you imagine doing when you thought about running away?”

Aladdin’s face became serious and his eyes focused on the stars above. He was silent a moment, absently stroking her hair and back. She waited patiently, and was rewarded when he finally spoke.

“I also imagined going on adventures and seeing the world. But I always sort of knew that that was really unlikely to happen. So I used to think, if I could realistically have anything, just one simple thing…” Aladdin trailed off and seemed lost in thought again, his hands stilling on her back. Jasmine kissed him on the tip of his nose to draw him out of it, and encouraged him with a smile when he glanced at her. He sighed and continued.

“I dreamed of going to a place where no one knows me,” he said finally, still not meeting her eyes. “I could start a totally new life, where no one knows I’m a thief and I don’t have to steal to get by. I could lead a respectable life, y’know, the kind my mother would be proud of.”

His voice lowered to just above a whisper. “I’ve always felt like I let her down, like if she could see me now she’d be disappointed in me for living the way I do. She wanted so much more for me. When I was a kid, she taught me that stealing isn’t right. What would she think if she knew that all my life has amounted to so far is that of a petty thief?”

Jasmine felt tears stinging her eyes at Aladdin’s confession. She threaded her fingers in his hair and tilted his face to look at her, waiting until he met her eyes before she spoke.

“I think you’re wrong, Aladdin. I think your mother _would_ be proud of you if she could see you now. You’ve been through so much, and you’re still a good man.” She smiled down at him, which he returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Jasmine thought she understood him. Sometimes she missed her father terribly, and she’d think of him and wonder what he would say if he could see his daughter now. Would he be confused? Outraged? Sad? Would he want her back if he knew everything she’d done? Deep down, she felt that he would, for she knew her father loved her no matter what. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still be disappointed in her, and it hurt to think that.

She stroked Aladdin’s temples with her thumbs. “We can live your dream now, too. We’re going to a place where no one knows us. We can be whatever we want, and leave the past behind. No more stealing.” Her words were rewarded when she saw the hope shining through the unshed tears in his eyes. She lowered her head and sealed her promise with a kiss. One of her hands sifted through his hair, and the other lowered to trace his jaw and throat. She felt his arms tighten across her back. She rubbed the length of her body against him and felt him groan against her mouth. The heat in her belly grew and began to spread through her whole body, making her limbs feel warm and heavy.

After a long minute, she pulled away smiling, feeling the need to tease him a bit to lighten the mood. “Aladdin?”

“Yeah?” She felt his hands move to her hips.

“What would you have said if I told you that my dream is to learn to fly?”

Aladdin chuckled. “That one’s easy, sweetheart. We can do that right now.”

“Oh?” Jasmine arched a brow at him. Aladdin smirked, and moved his hands lower. “Oooooh…”


	12. 2 of Diamonds

Jafar was in a towering temper, and he was not afraid to show it. Everyone in the palace was avoiding him at all costs, which was fine by him. He didn’t want to be burdened with their complete incompetence any longer. Even Iago was steering clear of him for the time being.

The Diamond in the Rough was gone. A week ago, he and his woman had slipped past the guards at the east gate and run off, and no one had seen hide nor hair of either of them since.

The alarm had immediately been raised, and Captain Razoul had doubled the guard on every gate and set watchmen on the wall straightaway. If they tried to reenter the city, they would be spotted. Later that same day, search parties had been sent out to find them under the guise of looking for the princess. They were to search the roads and nearby towns, questioning villagers and even offering bribes for information, but no one had seen them thus far.

To make matters worse, the search for the princess had reached a dead end as well. There had been no new, credible information on her whereabouts for weeks. The Sultan was beside himself with worry, and was putting enormous pressure on Jafar to find her. Jafar, quite frankly, cared nothing for the fate of the princess, except that his inability to find her meant the Sultan was rather put out with him. But as long as Jafar could find the Diamond, he need not worry about the Sultan’s reaction too much.

Now, a week later, he had called Razoul in to make his report. As the captain entered the room, Jafar noted that the man looked disheveled and exhausted. As he should—he should not be resting when this criminal is still at large.

Razoul bowed, but Jafar was in no mood for formalities. “Well, Captain? Give me your report. And don’t leave anything out.”

Razoul straightened and began to speak. His face was still, as though carved of stone. “Sir, I’m afraid there is very little to report.”

_“What?”_

“The search parties have all returned from searching the nearby villages. No one has seen any travelers matching the two thieves’ description. The watchmen and the guards at the gate have not seen them attempt to reenter the city. And there have been no new sightings of them inside the city. They have disappeared, sir.”

Jafar’s grip tightened on his staff until his knuckles were white, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to beat Razoul over the head with it. _“Disappeared,”_ Jafar hissed, and Razoul was not able to contain a flinch at his tone. “Disappeared, did you say? Surely you do not mean to suggest, Captain, that two people of flesh and blood have simply vanished into thin air?”

“No, sir,” Razoul answered, not daring to raise his eyes.

“Well then, if they did not vanish, and they have not been found, what do you think happened to them?” Jafar’s voice remained low and soft, but there was no mistaking the venom in it.

Razoul hesitated before answering. “I believe them to be dead, sir.”

“And why is that?”

“My lord, it has been a week, and they were barely carrying enough supplies for three days. If they did not make it to one of the nearby villages, then they must have died in the desert.”

“I see,” Jafar murmured, and for once, this wasn’t a sarcastic observation. He really did see how Razoul could come to that conclusion, since he himself suspected the same. Just because he agreed with Razoul though, did not make him any less furious. 

“So you believe the two of them to have perished in the desert. I have to admit, Captain, that your conclusion has the ring of truth. However, I believe that my orders to you were to take the boy alive, or did I not make myself clear?”

“My lord—“

Suddenly, Jafar snapped. His rage was too great to contain. He came closer to the unfortunate captain as he screamed, “For _years_ you have tried to capture this one worthless street rat, and for years he has evaded you! For the last month you have pursued him to the exclusion of all else, yet you still let him slip through your fingers. You incompetent, pathetic _fool!_ ” He banged his staff down on the floor with the last syllable, and the reverberation echoed around the otherwise silent antechamber.

Razoul was cringing, wringing his hands and unable to lift his eyes from the floor. It was pathetic, Jafar thought, watching a grown man of Razoul’s size snivel and cower before him. Yet it was, in a way, oddly gratifying, though it did nothing to ease his temper.

“Because your incompetence is nothing short of horrendous, you are relieved of your duties and your post, _Captain_.” Razoul bowed and removed his uniform turban, placing it on the floor before Jafar. But Jafar wasn’t through with him yet. 

“Guards!” he called, and three palace guards immediately appeared. “Take this man to the dungeon.”

Razoul’s head snapped up, and Jafar was pleased to see fear in his expression. “My lord, please—“

“I have had enough of your excuses! If you can’t follow a simple order, then you will reap the consequences. Guards! Take him away.”

The palace guards seized the unhappy man and led him out of the room. Jafar could feel a small portion of his anger ebbing as he watched them leave. It was cathartic, destroying a man’s life.

“Well that tears it.”

“Iago. Where have you been?”

“Around. Keepin’ an eye on things. Which is good, ‘cause there’s one less person to do that now that Razoul’s in prison.” The parrot flew down and perched on the back of a chair.

“You can keep your opinions to yourself, Iago. After he failed me so spectacularly, he more than deserves a stint in the dungeon.”

“And how long exactly is this stint gonna be?”

“Until I see fit to let him go,” Jafar hissed, narrowing his eyes at his insolent bird.

“Okay, but who’re ya gonna promote to captain now? Sad to say, but Razoul was pretty much the best we had.”

“I’ll just pick the lieutenant with the best record. He’ll learn fast—or he won’t learn at all.”

Iago sighed and shook his head. “Jafar, I think the pressure is gettin’ to ya. Maybe it’d do you some good to get outta the palace and get some fresh air. See the lie of the land for yourself.”

Jafar paused, considering. “You may be right about that, Iago. Since it seems that I cannot count on others to do what needs to be done, I’ll have to do it myself.”

“That’s the spirit,” Iago said as he flew up to perch on Jafar’s shoulder. “Besides, I think I spotted something in the marketplace that ya might wanna see.”

♦ ♦

“Well done, Iago,” whispered Jafar. “This is indeed quite the find.”

The parrot preened at Jafar’s praise. He had certainly earned it, Jafar thought as he stared into the market stall in front of him. Displayed prominently were what was unmistakably the princess’s clothes. Jafar would recognize the pale blue silk and jeweled headband anywhere. At long last, he had a lead on the case of the missing princess.

“So do ya think the guy knows where the princess is?”

“I certainly doubt it. If he had any idea at all where those clothes came from he would never display them so openly,” Jafar said as he started across the street. “Keep watch for me, Iago, while I question the owner.” Iago took off, and Jafar watched him alight on a nearby roof.

He entered the stall and smiled as the merchant welcomed him. He casually began to question the man about the blue outfit and the merchant responded eagerly, sensing a rich client. But Jafar was in a hurry, and he wanted to be sure the man wasn’t lying, so he put the merchant under hypnosis.

In less than twenty minutes, Jafar was leaving the stall with the princess’s clothes and new information.

“Well?” said Iago as he settled himself on Jafar’s shoulder.

“As I suspected, he did not know the whereabouts of the princess. Nor did he know the origin of the clothes, but he had a few useful things to say nonetheless.”

“Like what?”

“He acquired the clothes just over a week ago from a young man. He paid a fair price for them, and the man seemed to know the true value of the clothes. The merchant believed this man to be a young travelling merchant, as he has not seen him before or since. He also gave me a description of this travelling merchant. It’s only been a week—the person who sold the clothes may still be in town. I’ll have my new captain take his troops to search every inn and public house for the man. If he’s still in Agrabah, he must be found.”

“Good idea, Jafar. We’re back on track.”

“Indeed.” Jafar was in a much better mood than he was that morning. He at least had a lead in the case of the princess. Now if only he could discover what had happened to the Diamond…

Suddenly, Iago began to laugh. “What is it, Iago?” Jafar snapped, wondering why the parrot should be so amused. They’d had some good luck, yes, but this was hardly a time for levity.

“Look at that monkey,” Iago cackled. “He’s stealing a whole loaf of bread!” Jafar glanced in the direction of the bread cart and saw that there was indeed a monkey with a loaf of bread clutched in its prehensile tail scaling the awning just above it. Jafar didn’t care one way or the other what manner of creature stole from the bread cart, but this time he did a double take.

The monkey was wearing a vest and a hat.

Jafar came to a halt and stared. “Iago,” he said quietly, “didn’t Razoul say that the boy Aladdin had a pet monkey?”

“Yeah…”

“And that the monkey wears a vest and a hat?”

Iago was silent a moment, considering. “…It could be the one.”

“Follow it, Iago.”

“Way ahead of ya, Jafar,” Iago said, and he took off after the monkey.

♦ ♦

It was evening before Iago returned. Jafar had dispatched the guards with their mission to find the young merchant, and they had made several arrests so far. They would be questioned later, and the merchant from whom Jafar had retrieved the clothes would be brought in to identify them. For now though, there was nothing to do but wait.

“What news, Iago?”

“I followed the monkey, but I didn’t find the boy or his little partner. Looks like the monkey is livin’ with two little street kids. But they call him Abu. Isn’t that what Razoul said the monkey was called?”

“Yes, he did say that the boy called his monkey Abu.”

“Well now I’m just confused. I thought at first I had the wrong monkey. I mean, if it’s the right monkey, then how come he’s not with his master?”

Jafar considered the question. If it wasn’t the same monkey, it was a hell of a coincidence. If it was, how did it come to be in the care of two urchins? Then Jafar remembered that the Diamond had tried to flee into the desert. The monkey would have been a burden there. Perhaps the boy had given it to the children to get it off his hands.

That could mean that the two children have some kind of connection to the Diamond.

“Jafar? What’re ya thinkin’?”

Jafar steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair. “I’m thinking that it’s time to extend those children an invitation to the palace.”

♦ ♦

They were just yards away from the walls of the city of Dhuuma, and Aladdin was still having a hard time convincing himself that he wasn’t experiencing another mirage.

The last nine days had been some of the physically hardest he’d ever known. He was exhausted. Beyond exhausted—he was dead on his feet, and he wasn’t the only one. He looked over at Yasmin and noticed her swaying slightly where she stood, eyelids drooping. He sure hoped they would be able to get past the guards here, because he didn’t think they would have the energy to run for it.

They were standing in line with other people waiting to enter the city one by one through the narrow gate. If their ruse had worked, the people in Agrabah who were after them would believe that they were dead or had somehow slipped through their fingers. Hopefully they believed the latter and hadn’t thought to alert the guards of neighboring cities that wanted fugitives might be trying to cross their borders.

Aladdin took a deep breath. He would be finding out which was the case in just a few minutes. No need to stress about something he couldn’t control. Either the plan had worked and they were home free, or it hadn’t and they were headed back to Agrabah and its dungeons.

The line inched closer to the gate, and Aladdin put his hand on Yasmin’s shoulder to bring her back to full alertness. He could see the enormous, arched doorway and the guards where they stood scrutinizing every party that passed them. One of the guards would ask a few questions, then make a few marks on some paper before waving each party on.

Aladdin found himself holding his breath as they passed under the great arch of the gate. Then they were in front of the nosy guard, and he was asking his questions. Aladdin gave him the story they had rehearsed: he and his brother (Yasmin was dressed in men’s clothing, her hair hidden) were traveling from Kasooli to visit relatives in Dhuuma. However, the guard had more random questions after that, and Aladdin improvised his way through them as best he could, hoping he had said the right thing. (Why did they need to know if he’d been on a farm anyway? And who else was going to pack his bags if not him?)

Aladdin held his breath, tensing as the guard wrote something on his paper, then relaxed immediately as he waved them through. Aladdin hurried away, looking back only to make sure Yasmin was following him.

As soon as they were out of sight of any guards, Aladdin pulled Yasmin into an alley and stopped there in the shadows. He drew her into his arms and just held her to him, allowing the tension to ebb from his body as he let their success sink into his mind.

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” he whispered into Yasmin’s ear. He could feel her shaking with relief as she slipped her arms around him. He understood her reaction—she had been so tense and tightly wound that letting it all go at once was like crashing. “All we had to do was steal your clothes out from under Razoul’s nose, beat a few dozen guards to the top of the wall and jump off, spend over a week crossing a desert on the instructions of an old coot who probably had no idea what he was talking about, and fool the guards on the other side into letting us into their city. Now what was so hard about that?”

She began to giggle, and if there was a slightly hysterical edge to her laughter, Aladdin pretended not to notice. He just smiled and held her, stroking his hands up and down her back in a soothing rhythm. 

Her laughter soon subsided, and she murmured something into his chest that he couldn’t quite make out.

“What was that, love?”

She looked up at him with a smile and tears brimming in her eyes. “We made it, Aladdin. We’re free.”


	13. Ace of Clubs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: violence towards children.

Maybe it was just because of how hard a time he had been having trying to capture the Diamond, but Jafar was surprised how easy it was to catch the two urchins and the monkey.

On the directions of Iago, he had sent the guards to the children’s little hidey-hole in the middle of the night, letting his men sneak up on them in the dark. The guards had had no trouble finding and subduing them, and they were brought back to the palace in short order.

Now they stood shivering in front of him, flanked by two enormous guards and hanging onto each other for dear life. The monkey had been stripped of his clothes and was locked in a cage, and a third guard held the cage at the back of the room. Jafar, meanwhile, reclined in his vast chair, wondering how best to question these two youngsters. He thought that perhaps he would forego his usual intimidation tactics for the time being and try some honey first.

“Hello, children,” Jafar began in a sickly sweet voice with a twisted smile. In fact, one would call the grimace on his face a smile in the same way that some call a crocodile opening its mouth a ‘smile.’ “Welcome to the palace,” he continued. “I’m so pleased to have you here. My name is Jafar, and I’m the Royal Vizier to the Sultan. What are your names?”

Jafar felt a flash of annoyance when the children remained silent, eyes still wide with fear. He kept his smile plastered to his face.

“Come now, you needn’t be afraid. Two such pretty children must have names.”

“ _Awwwck!_ Pretty children! _Awwwck!_ ”

Jafar noted that as soon as Iago had opened his beak, the little boy’s eyes had fixed on the parrot and hadn’t moved. He appeared to be fascinated.

Jafar felt his grin widen. “Do you like my parrot, little boy?”

The child started at being addressed directly, and quickly looked down at the floor. Hesitantly, he nodded.

“Would you like to see him closer?” The boy didn’t move. “I’m sure you do. Come here, child.” He signaled to one of the guards, who tried to bring the boy closer, but the two urchins were clinging to each other. The other guard grabbed the girl and held her back while the first guard tugged the boy out of her arms. She whimpered in fear when the boy was separated from her and she reached out for him in vain as the guard carried the child to Jafar’s chair.

“You can sit here, next to me. There’s plenty of room,” Jafar said as the guard plopped the boy down in the huge chair beside him. Jafar certainly wasn’t going to go so far as to hold this dirty little ragamuffin on his lap.

He held his hand up to Iago, and Iago stepped down onto it, willing to play the part of the dumb bird. Jafar showed the parrot to the little boy, who stared at it with wide eyes. “This parrot is a very special bird,” he said to the child as though imparting a great secret. “He can imitate any word you care to say. His name is Iago.”

“ _Rawwwck!_ Iago! _Awwwck!_ ”

“You see? He said his own name. He can say yours, too. Just tell him your name.”

The boy fidgeted for a moment, then mumbled something too soft for Jafar to hear.

“You must say it louder so he can hear you, child.”

The boy fidgeted some more, then said softly but clearly, “Rami.”

“ _Awwwck_ , Rami! _Rawwwck!_ ”

Upon hearing the parrot speak his name, the boy gave a shy little smile. Jafar grinned himself. This was going to be easy, like taking candy from a baby, which, if Jafar thought about it, was an apt analogy.

“Is that your sister, Rami?” Jafar asked, nodding at the girl that was still held in the guard’s strong grip. The boy nodded. “What’s her name?”

“Najida.”

“ _Awwwck_ , Najida!”

“And what about your little monkey friend, hmm? What’s its name?”

“Abu.”

“Abu! _Awwwck!_ ”

“There, see? Isn’t my parrot talented?” Jafar asked as he replaced Iago on his shoulder. The boy nodded once. “Oh, but I’m sure your monkey is just as talented. What can he do?”

“Steal stuff, mostly,” the child answered with innocent honesty. Jafar grinned, but at that moment, the girl let out a horrified little shriek and her hands flew to cover her mouth. The boy looked at her sharply and then realized what he had just let slip. He glanced fearfully up at Jafar, who tried to reassure him by patting his shoulder, but the boy cringed away from him. Jafar cursed in his head while trying to keep his face placid for the children.

“It’s all right, Rami. I’m certainly not going to punish you for something your monkey did.” But the child did not seem reassured—in fact, he appeared to withdraw even farther into himself.

Jafar pressed on, undeterred. “Where did you get your monkey, Rami? Who gave it to you?”

The child fidgeted, but answered. “He’s my friend.”

Jafar could barely contain his eagerness. “The man who gave you the monkey?”

“Abu is my friend.”

Jafar bit back a curse. “Yes, of course. But what about the one who gave you Abu? Hmm? What’s his name? Where is he?”

“ _Awwwck!_ Where is he? _Rawwwck!_ ”

The little boy glanced at his sister, then up at Jafar, before looking back down. “I don’t know,” he said in a small voice.

“Come now, you must know something about him. What did he look like? What was his name?” Jafar asked again, patience wearing thin.

The child fidgeted worse than ever. “I don’t know,” he whispered.

“Really, child, I know you know him. Now tell me his name.” A note of steel crept into Jafar’s voice at last, and caused the boy to shiver.

“Don’t know,” the boy whimpered.

_SMACK!_

The little boy raised his hand to cover his stinging red cheek where Jafar had struck him. He stared up at the man with tears brimming in his eyes.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, boy. Now tell me: who gave you that monkey?”

“ _Awwwck_ , answer, boy!”

The child was too frightened to even speak now. He just sat there trembling, tears overflowing his eyelashes and trickling slowly down his cheeks. Jafar raised his hand to strike him again, but he was stopped by the girl’s shriek.

“Stoppit! He’s just little! He doesn’t know what you’re talking about!”

Jafar turned his attention to the girl, who quailed under his gaze, though her face was still red from her anger and she was still restrained by the guard.

“Then perhaps, girl, you are the one who can answer my questions,” he hissed, the menace now clear in his voice.

At that moment, the boy, seeing that Jafar’s attention had been turned from him, tried to get down from the chair and distance himself from his attacker. Jafar, however, was too quick for him. He struck like a snake, grabbing a fistful of the child’s hair and pulling him back beside him.

The little boy’s pained and frightened scream was truly piteous, but had no effect whatsoever on Jafar, who retained his painful grip on the urchin’s hair. Tears now streamed down the child’s reddened face in earnest, his breath catching with sobs.

“’Jida! Help!” he wailed, reaching out for his sister. She tried to get to him, but the guard restraining her had a bruising grip on both her arms. He wrenched them behind her back when she tried to fight him, eliciting a gasp of pain.

“Let me go!” she shouted, and tried to kick him but missed. The monkey, meanwhile, had become quite agitated, shrieking and shaking the bars of its cage, adding to the uproar.

“That is enough!” shouted Jafar. “You are both staying right where you are until you answer my questions.” He paused and glared until the only sound he could still hear were the boy’s hiccupping sobs.

“Now,” he said, “let’s try this again, girl. Where did you get that monkey?”

“I don’t got anything to say about it to _you_ ,” she said defiantly, glaring at their captor.

Jafar sneered at her. “Is that so?” He tugged on the boy’s hair to pull his head back and expose his throat, then whipped a knife from where it had been concealed in the arm of the chair and held it just under the boy’s chin. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind, my dear?”

“Rami!” the girl cried, and the tears she had been holding back began to fall.

When the little boy felt the cold, sharp steel pressed against his throat, he began to wail again, fighting against Jafar’s grip. In his desperate struggle, he accidently nicked himself on the blade at his throat, causing a line of blood to begin to drip down his neck. Jafar cursed aloud and pulled the boy closer to him to gain a better grip. “Stay still and be silent, you brainless creature!” The boy immediately tried to get control of himself, trembling and choking on his sobs.

He looked down at the little boy, thoroughly disgusted by the tears and snot streaming down the child’s terrified face, not to mention the filth on his clothes and body. He hated being near such a squalid little brat, but he wanted answers and it looked like this was the only way he was going to get them.

“I’ve tried to ask nicely, but you two little fools have decided not to cooperate. Now I’m going to ask you one. More. Time. Who gave you the monkey?”

The girl looked up at him through her tears. “His name is Aladdin,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Good girl,” Jafar said with that falsely saccharine tone. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, how do you know this boy?”

“He helps me and Rami sometimes. He gives us food and money and makes sure we’re okay.” She sniffled loudly. “He’s r-really n-nice to us.”

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t know.”

Jafar’s face contorted in fury and he pressed the blade harder to the boy’s throat, causing him to cry out.

“Stop!” the girl screamed, her tears coming faster. “Please, don’t! I really don’t know! They—they l-left Agra-bah and he s-said that they’re not c-coming back for a r-really lo-long time, m-maybe ev-er, and that’s why he g-gave Abu to me and R-Rami to t-take care of,” she gasped out.

Jafar eased his grip on the knife and the boy whimpered. “They? Do you mean Aladdin and his woman?” The girl nodded. “Who is she? Where is she from?”

The girl took a deep breath. “Her n-name is Yasmin. I d-don’t know where she’s from, but she’s r-really pretty and n-nice.”

“When did they leave?”

“I think…a week ago?”

“And you don’t have any idea where they’re going?” The girl shook her head in response, her misery plain on her face. Jafar felt the rage bubble up inside him again. This was his last chance to find the Diamond and he had not learned one new thing from these idiot children. He already knew that the Diamond had left the city a week ago—what he wanted to know is where he is now. He growled in frustration.

“If you are lying to me, girl, there will be hell to pay,” he hissed. Then he removed the knife from the boy’s throat and shoved him forward. The child toppled off the chair with a loud cry and landed on the floor on his hands and knees. “Guards! Take them to the dungeon. Perhaps they’ll think of something else I need to know while they’re cooling their heels down there.”

The boy scrambled to his feet, shaking hard, and before the guard could grab him, he ran to his sister and threw his arms around her. The other guard still restrained her, so she could not reciprocate the embrace, but she pressed her damp cheek to the top of his head.

Just before they were dragged from the room, Jafar heard her whisper tearfully, “Aladdin was right, Rami. Bad people are after him.”

♣

“I can’t believe this! I just can’t believe it! Look at this! I’m so ticked off that I’m molting. What’re we gonna do now? We are _never_ gonna find the Diamond, and without him, we got no lamp!”

Jafar sat slumped in his chair, massaging his temples as Iago continued to rant. He and Iago had been discussing the issue for more than an hour after questioning the children. They hadn’t really learned anything from those brats that they hadn’t known before. They had already learned that Aladdin was a petty thief known to steal food, small change, and occasionally clothes. He was evidently a homeless orphan who had lived all his life in Agrabah, as Razoul could well attest. He and his guards had been chasing the boy since he was little older than the two waifs they had just interrogated.

It would appear, based on the evidence, that Aladdin, being driven to desperation by the persecution of the guards, had attempted to escape from Agrabah. But, being unfamiliar with the harsh desert landscape, he had become lost, for he never arrived at one of the nearby villages. If he was aiming for a more distant town, he would have used up his supplies long before reaching it. He was carrying supplies for only three days probably because that was all he could safely steal and naively thought that it would be enough to carry him through. Jafar had been unable to discover exactly what his plans had been, but in any case it was clear that he was probably dead. Him and that woman traveling with him—what was her name again—Yasmin.

“Aladdin _and_ Jasmine, both of ‘em missing without a trace. What a pair of problems they’ve turned out to be! I can’t believe we—“

Jafar suddenly sat up straight. Something in Iago’s turn of phrase had caught his attention. “Iago, what are you blathering on about?”

“I was just sayin’ that we got two huge problems what with Aladdin and Jasmine being missing—“

“Have you considered, my feathered friend, that perhaps…perhaps we actually only have _one_ problem?”

“What the heck are ya talkin’ about, Jafar? I think you’ve finally cracked under all the pressure.”

“Quiet a minute, I want to think.”

Jafar folded his long fingers under his chin, brow furrowed. He was looking for two missing people: Aladdin and Jasmine. But actually, there was the third person in the case that Jafar had not really considered yet because she was of no interest to him—Aladdin’s woman, Yasmin.

It was Iago’s phrasing right on the heels of his thought about the woman that had caused him to notice the coincidental similarities in their names, but now it wasn’t the only ‘coincidence’ he was noticing.

Could it be simple coincidence that just days after the princess disappeared, Aladdin had a girl with him that the guards had never seen before? Could it be coincidence that the clothes merchant had purchased the princess’s clothes from a handsome young man the day before Aladdin and that girl had left the city? Was it coincidence that the guards had been unable to catch or find either Aladdin or Jasmine?

Could it be coincidence that ‘Yasmin’ sounds quite a lot like Jasmine?

The urchin girl had described Yasmin as ‘pretty’ and ‘nice,’ which, while vague, were accurate descriptors for the princess. Could it really be her? Why hadn’t Jafar seen this connection before?

Because it was utterly preposterous, that’s why. How on earth would a petty thief kidnap a princess from the heavily guarded palace? And why in Allah’s name would he want to?

Unless…

Unless, of course, the princess hadn’t been kidnapped. She may have left the palace completely under her own power. Why hadn’t Jafar considered this scenario before?

Well, why on earth would the princess want to run away, anyway? What kind of fool would leave the comfort and safety of the palace for the streets of Agrabah? Jafar sighed out loud, rubbing his temples with his long, thin fingers. The princess, of course, would be just naïve enough to think that she could make it on her own in the outside world and spoiled enough to think that it would be preferable to simply marrying one of the many suitors that had presented themselves. The little idiot had probably skipped off into the marketplace and met this boy, who, exploiting her obvious naïveté, had easily swept her off her feet and taken advantage of her. It probably all seemed very romantic to a spoiled teenage girl. Jafar was just surprised that the romance hadn’t worn off for her yet and she hadn’t returned to the palace. Perhaps the boy had tricked her somehow, deceived her to keep her with him.

Whatever the reason she had decided to stay away, Jafar was more and more convinced with every minute that passed that ‘Yasmin’ was actually Jasmine. His search for the princess had failed so miserably before because he had been working under false assumptions: namely, that the princess had been taken by some outside force. If it wasn’t true, it would certainly simplify the case. However, it also meant that she was probably dead.

Jafar looked over at Iago, who had puffed up his feathers in impatience and irritation. “Iago, what if Yasmin were actually Jasmine?”

“ _Whaaat?_ ”

“Just think about it, Iago! All the similarities and coincidences in the two cases! If the princess ran away and met Aladdin…”

Jafar could see that the parrot was indeed thinking about it. His mouth was set in as much of a frown as the bird could manage with a beak, and his beady little eyes were fixed in the middle distance.

“It’s a possibility,” Iago finally conceded.

“I believe that it’s more than a possibility—it is, in fact, most probable.”

“You do realize that means she’s probably dead, right? What’s the Sultan gonna do when he finds out?”

Jafar smiled widely as he rubbed the cobra head of his staff. “That, my friend, is why we make contingency plans.”


	14. King of Hearts

Jafar had come to his very last resort. He hadn’t wanted to do this, but it had become necessary. It was time to tell the Sultan what had happened to his daughter.

Throughout the last week, Jafar had continued his investigations into finding the young merchant who had sold the princess’s clothes, but since he was convinced that the man he was looking for was probably actually Aladdin, he hadn’t held out much hope. He also continued to send search parties to the nearby villages and even a few to the farther cities in hopes that the two missing people would turn up. 

When both searches revealed nothing, Jafar knew he was at the end of his rope. The Sultan wouldn’t take the news of his daughter’s probable death well. He had not, in fact, taken much of anything well since her disappearance over a month ago. The old man had been feeling quite under the weather for most of that time. Jafar knew he was worried sick about his daughter, as evidenced by the amount of pressure he had been putting on Jafar and the guards to find her.

As Jafar entered the throne room, he saw that the Sultan’s throne was empty. He looked around and finally spotted the Sultan out on the balcony. The old man was leaning against the balustrade, looking out over the city. He had taken to doing this quite often, as though he thought he might eventually spot Jasmine waving up at him from the street.

The Sultan must have heard Jafar’s footsteps as he approached, for he heaved a sigh and said, “Yes, Jafar, what is it?”

“Your Excellency, I have come to inform you of certain…developments in the search for the princess.”

The Sultan turned then, and Jafar could see the spark of hope in his eyes. “You’ve found her?”

“No, sire, she is still missing.” The Sultan’s face fell, but Jafar pressed on. “I believe, however, that I have discovered what happened to her.”

“Well, out with it! I need to know what has befallen my poor child.”

Jafar took a fortifying breath. “Your majesty, I have found, in my personal investigations into the matter, evidence that indicates that your daughter was not in fact kidnapped or coerced, but instead left the palace under her own power.”

The Sultan stared at Jafar blankly, and Jafar paused to let it sink in.

“My daughter…ran away?” The Sultan said, his brow furrowed and lips pursed as though he were having trouble finding the right words. “But why would she do that? How could she—“

“I do not know her reasoning, sire; all I know is what happened thereafter.”

“Go on, Jafar.”

“Unfortunately, it would appear that she fell in with a thief, one of this city’s many criminals, and he was able to somehow deceive her into going with him.”

“Going with him _where?_ ”

“I was unable to discover their final destination. All that is known is that nearly two weeks ago, she and this thief managed to slip past the guards at the east gate of the city. They have not been seen since.”

The Sultan began to pace across the balcony, his normally calm demeanor giving way to what might almost be described as agitation. “You must send out search parties! Send them to all the surrounding towns and cities! They must be found! If my daughter is with this criminal then she is in danger. My daughter—“

“I have already done all that and more, my liege. The very day they left, search parties were sent out. They searched the roads and villages, interrogated citizens, offered rewards—they have been searching these last two weeks and they have found nothing. I have expanded the search to include larger cities, but they have still found nothing.”

“But how could that be? They can’t have just disappeared!”

“No, of course not. But according to the guards that witnessed their flight, they were carrying sufficient supplies for only three days. It has been two weeks, and they have not been seen in any villages within a three-day radius of Agrabah.”

The Sultan turned slowly to face him, fear that was not yet fully realized in his eyes. “What are you trying to say, Jafar?” he said quietly, almost angrily.

Jafar studied the man before him for a moment, taking in the dark circles under his eyes in a face paler than normal. Perhaps this news would destroy the man just enough to render him completely vulnerable to hypnosis. That would be ideal. He had one last chance to salvage the situation and turn it to his advantage.

“I’m afraid that the conclusion I have drawn is that the two of them, being unfamiliar with desert travel, became lost. I believe that they are dead.”

Jafar watched as the Sultan’s face went blank with shock. Now was his moment. He drew his staff up in readiness.

“I am _exceedingly_ sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news, your highness, but these sad circumstances mean that you must choose a new heir to succeed you. I suggest—“

“No.”

The Sultan spoke so softly that Jafar almost didn’t hear him. He ground to a halt, surprised. “Sire?”

“I will not do any such thing, Jafar. I will not give up on finding my daughter. Not while there is still any hope of finding her.”

Jafar stared at the Sultan. The man’s normally childish face was set in stone. His eyes were hard and his gaze almost cold when he looked upon Jafar. It was so surprising that Jafar nearly faltered.

“But sire, there is no hope anymore of finding her alive after so long.”

The Sultan did not flinch. “Yes, there is. I will not believe she is dead until I have laid eyes on the undeniable proof of it. Send out the search parties again. They must continue looking. Leave no stone unturned.”

“My lord, the search parties have already looked everywhere; they have exhausted all possible avenues of inquiry. There is nothing left to be found.”

“I do not believe that.”

Jafar understood that the Sultan was in denial. He wasn’t going to let that stop him though. He brought the cobra staff forward, activating its hypnotic powers, and watched the Sultan’s eyes go blank. Certain he had the Sultan’s attention, he chanted, “The princess is dead. You must name an heir capable of ruling the kingdom. I, Jafar, your Royal Vizier, am the most capable—“

“The princess…is…not dead!” The Sultan’s voice was strained and quiet at first, but it gained in volume as he abruptly shook off the hypnosis. Jafar was so surprised that his concentration was broken and he almost let the spell fizzle out. He managed to keep his composure though, and increased the power in the staff.

“The princess is _dead_ ,” Jafar intoned. “You will name me as your heir!”

The Sultan’s eyes crossed from the amount of hypnotic power being exerted on his mind. His voice was weak as he responded, “I will…I…will…” Jafar smiled, knowing his moment was at hand.

“I…will… _not._ ”

This time Jafar really did let the spell die. He was shaken. The Sultan had never before resisted hypnosis. What was happening? “Your Excellency?” he said hesitantly.

Jafar was shocked to see tears in the Sultan’s eyes. “I can’t give up on her, Jafar. She’s my only child. She must be alive. She has to be out there somewhere. I’ll find her if it’s the last thing I do.”

Jafar felt his incredulity turn to peevishness. He didn’t know why his hypnosis was suddenly ineffective, but there was probably a simple explanation. Perhaps he had used it too often on the Sultan, and now his mind had developed a resistance to his power in the same way that one develops a tolerance for alcohol. In that case, all that was needed was more power, a stronger spell. He would have to work on that, but right now he was annoyed that the Sultan could not be forced to bow to his wishes. His temper dangerously short, Jafar snapped at the old fool.

“Sire, even if the princess is found, what makes you think she will still want to rule? Do not forget how she ended up in this mess. She ran away from her responsibilities! She is not worthy of the throne.”

The Sultan’s eyes narrowed. “ _I_ am the one to decide who is worthy to rule, Jafar. Not you. I am the Sultan of Agrabah, and you will follow my orders—something, it seems, you have been neglecting lately, or you would have found my daughter a month ago when she was still in the city!”

Jafar immediately reigned in his temper, recognizing that it would get him nowhere. He bowed low, saying, “My apologies, your highness. I spoke in error.” He straightened and continued, “But what would you have me do, my lord? When I found the location of the thief’s lair over a month ago, I sent Razoul and his men to seize them. I thought I had made my orders clear, but they failed utterly in capturing them. Since then I have consistently sought them, but each time the guards make an attempt to bring them in, they manage to slip through their fingers. Am I to be held responsible for their mistakes? I assure you, sire, that I have done everything to the utmost of my ability to find them. No one wants to find them more than I.”

“Ah, so _that’s_ why you stripped Razoul of his rank and threw him in the dungeon,” the Sultan said with a rather disdainful look at Jafar. “I did wonder. Well, Jafar, I think it’s rather poor leadership to blame subordinates for _your_ failures. The task of finding the princess was given to you to carry out. In the end, you alone are responsible for this fiasco. I am holding _you_ accountable for this task. If you do not perform it satisfactorily, as is so far the case, you had best beware that I don’t strip _you_ of your rank and throw you in the dungeon.”

Jafar froze. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. What had happened to the meek, childish man that Jafar had always dealt with before?

The Sultan turned back to the balcony that overlooked his city before he spoke again. “You are to release Razoul and reinstate him as captain. You will need all the help you can get in the search for my daughter.”

Jafar shook his head, defeated. He knew that he would not find the princess, no matter how hard he looked or how many men he commanded. However, it would appear that the Sultan would not face the facts. Now he was stuck looking for a princess that was probably dead, along with the boy that was his one way of obtaining the lamp. All his plans had fallen through. His only recourse was to continue to serve the Sultan, and hope that another opportunity to gain power would soon present itself.

“Then perhaps, sire, an increase in the reward offered for her safe return would also be a helpful incentive.” Jafar suggested. He didn’t really care whether the Sultan took his recommendation or not; he mostly just wanted to appear as though he was treating the search seriously. 

The Sultan, on the other hand, looked thoughtful. “I have increased the money offered several times, and no one has come forward. Perhaps a different sort of reward is necessary.”

“What do you propose, your majesty?” Jafar feigned interest when all he really wanted to do was scream and rage at the unfairness of how completely he had failed. The sooner he could end this wholly unsatisfactory interview, the sooner he could leave and blow off some of his rising ire on some unsuspecting servant. It was no kind of solution to his current predicament, but it would at least make him feel better.

The Sultan’s next words, however, were enough to amaze Jafar once again and make him wonder what strange spirit had possessed this diminutive man of late.

“The reward will be thus: whosoever finds the princess shall have her hand in marriage.”

♥

Aladdin couldn’t remember the last time he had strolled casually through a marketplace. He wasn’t hiding or glancing over his shoulder to see his pursuers, nor was he eyeing the stalls to figure out what would be easiest to steal. He didn’t have to steal anymore, so he wouldn’t. All he had to do was walk hand in hand with the most beautiful girl in the world and enjoy the evening.

It was almost a surreal experience, to walk through the crowd without having to duck into an alley every few yards to make sure no one saw him. Strange indeed, but it was certainly something he could get used to.

Things were going well for the two of them so far—as well as could be expected given the circumstances. They had been in Dhuuma for almost a week, and Aladdin had been working as a day laborer doing whatever odd jobs he could find. He had spent most of that day unpacking produce for a merchant. Yasmin had been looking for things to do too, but as a woman her options were more limited, especially since she still didn’t know how to do certain things very well, like laundry or cooking.

They hadn’t found a place to stay yet, but sleeping in the street was nothing new to either of them. At least they were able to sleep the night through without worry about being caught causing them to toss and turn. They even had enough money to eat one meal every day, something Aladdin could not remember ever having in his life.

Yes, things were looking up for them, Aladdin thought as they wound their way through the stalls of the market. The only thing missing in this moment was Abu’s presence on his shoulder. He sighed, thinking of the little monkey. He hoped that Abu, Najida, and Rami were doing well too, and that the three of them were taking care of each other.

While things had been going well, he didn’t feel entirely at ease with their circumstances. Dhuuma was still too close to Agrabah for his comfort. He had spoken about it with Yasmin, and she had agreed. They would stay here for a little while to recuperate and save some money, then they would leave with the next caravan headed to the sea. They could board a ship there, or travel along the coastline. Leaving Dhuuma so soon didn’t bother Aladdin the way leaving Agrabah had. This city wasn’t home, and he felt no attachment to it. Besides, the two of them were free to travel and see the world now—they may as well get started. There’s a lot of world out there to see, after all.

“Aladdin, look at this.” Yasmin suddenly pulled him over to a shop and pointed at a sign hanging in the window. “This could be a good opportunity. What do you think?”

Aladdin squinted at the sign covered in graceful Arabic script. “Uhh, sure, Yasmin…”

“I mean, it’s probably not what you’re used to and doesn’t pay all that well, but it’s steady work which has to be better than going out every day and seeing what you can find, don’t you think?”

Aladdin scratched his head, suddenly a little uncomfortable. “I guess so…”

“Let’s go in and see if the owner’s still there. We can at least inquire.”

“…We’re talking about a job, right?”

Yasmin gave him a funny look. “Of course. Let’s go see the owner.” She started to drag him toward the door, but Aladdin resisted her efforts.

“What’s the job?” he asked.

Yasmin stopped and looked back, raising an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you read the sign?”

Aladdin’s unease increased and he looked away. The sign with its flowing script met his eyes again. “No, I…I don’t know how.” His feeling of discomfort immediately turned to shame as soon as the confession left his lips.

He glanced back at Yasmin and immediately wished he hadn’t. Her eyes were wide and brows raised in surprise. “You mean—you don’t know how to read?” The shock in her voice almost made him flinch.

Aladdin looked away from her again, too embarrassed to meet her questioning gaze. “No,” he answered softly. 

Aladdin squinted at the sign again, as though that would somehow help him make sense of all the squiggles inscribed there. He had never learned to decipher the written word. He didn’t know how he would’ve picked up that skill; lots of people didn’t know how to read. In fact, Aladdin was hard-pressed to think of a single person of his acquaintance who could.

But Yasmin—she acted as though he ought to know, like it was the simplest thing in the world to do. It probably was. He knew that some people learned to read when they were quite young. What did it say about him that he had no idea how to do something that a little kid could master? He couldn’t even write his own name! He felt like such a dummy. His shame increased with every second that passed silent between them.

He felt Yasmin squeeze his hand, and he forced himself to look at her again. She no longer looked surprised; her face was filled with understanding, but that wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have known.”

Aladdin let out a bitter laugh. “What, you should’ve known I’d be too dumb to learn to read?” She must think him such an idiot, not being able to do this basic thing.

Yasmin’s eyes widened in surprise again. “No, I just—I shouldn’t have assumed. I didn’t even think about it, but where would you have learned to read, anyway?”

Aladdin frowned. “Well, it’s probably not hard, is it? I mean, if little kids can do it, it can’t be.”

“No, it’s not hard,” Yasmin said slowly. “But it’s also not really the kind of thing you can learn on your own. It would be really difficult without a teacher.” She paused and smiled at him. “I can teach you, if you want.”

Aladdin felt his bitter shame begin to turn to cautious curiosity. He had always kind of wondered how it was done, but he’d never had the opportunity to find out. “Do you really think I can learn?” he asked her.

“I’m _sure_ you can,” she replied, squeezing his hand again. “We’ll have you reading in no time.”

As they set off through the market again, Aladdin wondered what else he might learn from Yasmin. She probably knew lots of things he didn’t. So far in their time together, she had usually been the one learning from him, survival skills for the most part. Now that they had some breathing room from being pursued though, he realized that he could stand to learn a few things from her as well. Maybe she knew about history, too. Aladdin had always liked to hear the stories about times past that the old beggar man had been given to telling.

What else had Yasmin learned from her father? Or maybe it hadn’t been her father that had taught her—perhaps he was rich enough to hire a teacher for her. Aladdin found himself wondering, not for the first time, what kind of man Yasmin’s father was. He wanted to ask, but it was obviously a touchy subject with her, and he didn’t want to pry. He would respect her privacy until she was ready to talk about it. It couldn’t possibly matter that much anymore anyway, not now that they had escaped and no one knew where to find them. If she wanted to leave the past behind, then let her. He wanted to put his past behind him too. Though he did wish that she trusted him enough to confide in him.

The feel of Yasmin tugging on his arm brought Aladdin back out of his thoughts. “Aladdin, listen! Do you hear that?”

Aladdin had already caught the sound of strains of music coming from up ahead, but hadn’t given it much thought. Yasmin, however, seemed eager to find its source. She pulled him along behind her, searching out the musicians. He allowed himself to be dragged along in her wake, grinning at her eager excitement.

At last the crowd parted to reveal three boys around their same age seated on mats on the ground. One played the drum, another played a flute, and the third plucked a small stringed instrument that Aladdin couldn’t name. Their music was lively, and actually rather good for being played by relative youngsters. Aladdin noticed a hat sitting before the three with some coin in it, and as he watched, a passerby stopped and threw another coin in. Interesting way to earn a living, he thought to himself as he watched.

The tune the three musicians played was infectious, and Aladdin soon found himself smiling as he tapped his foot to the rhythm. He could feel Yasmin swaying beside him, and he looked over at her to find her smiling more brightly than he had seen her do in weeks. The sight of her so happy nearly took his breath away. He thought his heart might have melted in his chest just from witnessing her joy.

Suddenly she dropped his hand, kicked off her shoes, and moved into the open space before the players. She began to dance, and Aladdin felt his breath catch in throat. She skipped and twirled, not following any set pattern of steps, but her movement was mesmerizing all the same. Aladdin watched her and clapped his hands to the beat, wondering when, if ever, he had seen anyone dance like this. Her movement was a pure expression of her happiness. Aladdin felt the barest prickling of tears in his eyes, watching her. She was happy, and she was free, and she could do as she liked—including dance barefoot in the street.

Yasmin spun in circles until she was dizzy, hands above her head, skirt flaring, and Aladdin knew that their future would be brighter than their past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that, dear readers, is the end of Part I! Don’t you go anywhere though—Part II is on its way, picking up a little while after the end of Part I. We’re just about halfway done with this story, so bear with me a while longer.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, and a special thanks to those who have taken the time to leave reviews. I know it’s kinda hard to leave a thoughtful review, but I really appreciate it.
> 
> ln()


	15. Two Pair

**Part II**

_Almost two years later_

Jasmine awoke at dawn as she had for nearly two years now: curled in the strong arms of her lover. She came back to consciousness slowly, luxuriating in the warmth and security his embrace exuded for her. She smiled, her eyes still closed, as she felt his chest rise and fall against her back with even breaths. He was still asleep. She was tempted to just keep her eyes shut and return to her dreams as well, but she knew full well that Aladdin would be awake very soon and they would need to begin their day.

Jasmine stretched, arching against the man that lay behind her, then slowly rolled over in the circle of his arms so that she was facing him. She smiled as she studied his sleeping face, his slightly parted lips framed by his beard. As beautiful as he was in repose, Jasmine liked him even better awake. Her smile turned mischievous. Why not wake him now? It was almost time to be up and about anyway.

She leaned closer to Aladdin and kissed him soundly, working his lips between hers and caressing his chest with one hand. She knew as soon as he came awake because he groaned and immediately began to return her kiss, bringing one hand up to cup the back of her head, holding her closer to him. Jasmine smiled and deepened the kiss, skimming her hand down his side, before she abruptly pulled away with a wicked smile at her man.

“Good morning, honey,” she said, the tone of her voice sweet as they come, but her innocent words belied by the naughty grin on her face and the spark in her eye.

Aladdin groaned again. “Have I ever told you that this is the best way to wake up ever?”

Jasmine winked at him. “You might have mentioned it.” She patted his chest and moved to get up, but Aladdin just tightened his hold on her.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s time to get up and start the day,” she answered, trying to school her expression to one of wide-eyed innocence but knowing that she was failing.

Aladdin snorted. “You can’t just wake a man up like _that_ and get away with it, you minx. There are consequences for that sort of behavior.”

Jasmine pouted. “Am I in trouble?”

“You’d better believe it, you little tease,” he murmured, and his lips claimed hers once again.

Without breaking the kiss, Aladdin rolled them both so that he was above her, his chest flush against hers, his hips settling between her legs. Jasmine ran her hands through his hair as he moved lower to kiss down her jaw to her neck. She arched against him as he sucked on the skin above her collarbone. She lifted one leg to wrap around his waist and pull him closer to her when—

“C’mon you guys, it’s time to— _ewwwww!_ ”

Jasmine broke their kiss at the sound of the flap of their tent being pulled back and the interjection of the intruder. She saw Aladdin roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Get out, Omar,” he called over his shoulder, not even bothering to look back to see the skinny youth that was invading their privacy.

“ _Gladly._ But you two better cut it out and get out here because Kassim is almost finished making breakfast. And I’m _not_ saving you any after seeing this.” With that, the gangly boy fled the scene.

“And whose fault is _that?_ ” Aladdin muttered as he rolled to the side.

Jasmine sighed and sat up. “I guess that concludes our ‘alone time’ for the day.”

Aladdin glanced at her, brow raised. “We could still…”

Jasmine just shook her head with a wry grin. “You know that as soon as he’s within hearing distance of the others he’s going to spout off what he almost caught us doing. If we take too long getting to breakfast, we’ll be the butt of everyone’s jokes for the rest of the day.”

“Only because they’re jealous,” Aladdin said with a grunt as he too sat up and started looking for a shirt. “I swear, one of these days I’m gonna get that kid good for all his nosing around.”

Jasmine grinned as she pulled her dress on. “I think you already have, many times. Remember when you let him overhear that story you made up about seeing a nymph in the stream?”

Aladdin grinned too as he shrugged on a vest. “Yeah, and when he went poking around looking for it he got stuck in the mud and had to wait for someone to come rescue him. Good times.”

Jasmine giggled as she brushed out her hair. “I think the best part is when he tried to save face by saying that he meant to get stuck, so the nymph would try to help him, and that it would’ve worked if we hadn’t all ‘interfered.’”

“Stupid kid,” Aladdin said, but Jasmine heard a healthy dose of affection in his tone.

“Well,” he said as he stood, “I’m gonna go make sure those three pigs haven’t eaten all the breakfast. I’ll probably have to fight tooth and nail to defend our portion, so mind you don’t take too long with your toilette, milady.”

Jasmine laughed again and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “My hero,” she sighed theatrically. 

Aladdin just raised an eyebrow. “You won’t be laughing if all you get for breakfast is a spoonful of cold gruel.”

Jasmine just widened her eyes in feigned innocence and said, “But you’d never let that happen to me, would you?”

Aladdin scowled to hide his amusement. “Don’t be so sure,” he said as he swept out of the tent.

Alone now, Jasmine smiled softly to herself. After almost two years, she could see right through Aladdin’s posturing. The last two years hadn’t been easy—there had been times when they hadn’t two coins to rub together—but he had always taken care of her, and she knew he would continue to do so as long as he had breath.

♥ ♦ ♣ ♦ ♥

Aladdin exited his tent and strode toward the fire pit, where their three traveling companions were seated. He could smell breakfast over the thick scent of smoke, and was thankful, not for the first time, that Kassim liked cooking. Yasmin wasn’t much for cooking, and neither was he. He remembered early on in their acquaintance, Yasmin had actually asked Kassim to teach her to cook, and he’d looked at her like she’d grown a second head. He had tried though, despite the fact that he clearly thought the situation was absolutely absurd. Aladdin grinned to himself as he remembered hearing Kassim muttering under his breath, _“Who ever heard of a man teaching a_ woman _to cook? The world is gone mad…”_

“I really don’t wanna know what that sick smile is about, after what I just witnessed.” Aladdin was brought back to the present by Omar making exaggerated gagging noises.

“Don’t like it, then stay away from their tent first thing in the morning, brat,” Babkak said around a mouthful of food, whapping Omar lightly upside the head. Yasmin had been right, of course—Omar had clearly already told the other two what he’d seen.

“Hey! I’m innocent!” Omar whined. Babkak snorted. “I’m the injured party here! I was just minding my own business, trying to be helpful—“

“By barging into other people’s tents without so much as knocking?” Aladdin raised an eyebrow at the boy as he helped himself to the cooling porridge.

Babkak smirked. “Yeah, it’s your own fault you got an eyeful, stupid whelp,” he said, reaching over to smack him again.

Omar rubbed the back of his head, sulking, as he muttered to himself. “How’m I supposed to knock on a tent, anyway?” Aladdin nearly choked on a mouthful of porridge trying not to laugh.

He listened to Babkak and Omar’s bickering for a while longer until he heard the swish of Yasmin’s skirt as she came to sit down beside him. “At it already, are they?” she said, looking at the two brothers with both exasperation and a little amusement on her features.

“When are they not?” Aladdin responded, wrapping an arm around her waist as she accepted a full bowl from Kassim with a smile and word of thanks.

As he handed the bowl to Yasmin, Kassim caught Aladdin’s eye. He raised his eyebrows and jerked his head toward a point behind the tents, away from the fire, clearly indicating that he wanted a private word with Aladdin. Aladdin nodded once to the other man to indicate his understanding and agreement. As Kassim stood from his place near the fire, Aladdin kissed Yasmin’s temple and squeezed her waist, murmuring, “Be back in a minute,” before standing himself and following Kassim.

Unlike his two younger brothers, Kassim was a man of few words. He took a long time to make up his mind about anything, and then he usually decided to keep his ruminations to himself. He was contemplative, so much so that some might think he was slow in the head, but Aladdin knew better. Kassim just liked to have all the facts before he made a decision, which usually served him well. Not rushing into things was often a virtue, and he had the effect of holding his brothers in check, for a while at least, which they sorely needed.

Therefore, that Kassim wanted to speak to him privately meant that there was something of some importance that he wanted to discuss. Aladdin wondered what it could be. Though Kassim was actually older than Aladdin, the younger man had been the leader of their little band from day one, and no one had ever thought that ought to change. Kassim usually left all such decisions to Aladdin, and unless Aladdin asked for it, Kassim didn’t usually volunteer his opinion.

They stopped a few dozen paces beyond the tents, and Kassim looked over at Aladdin. “What did you want to talk to me about?” Aladdin asked, holding his gaze.

Kassim did not prevaricate, but started right in on what he wished to discuss, as he was wont to do. “I suppose that you’re going to want to move on soon, yes?”

Aladdin nodded. “We’re not bringing in as much money as we were before. People are used to us now; they’ve seen us perform too often. Besides, we’ve been here in Ebicholi a while—longer than we’ve stayed anywhere else, actually.”

Kassim nodded, Aladdin having confirmed his suspicions. He looked away, and Aladdin thought he seemed hesitant to continue the conversation. Finally he drew a deep breath and said, “My brothers and I have decided that we will be staying here.”

Aladdin’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in surprise. Other people had joined their little band for short periods over the past two years, but the three brothers had been with them consistently for all that time. They had seemed quite content to go on roving from city to city in Aladdin’s little preforming troupe. Until now, that is.

Aladdin quickly racked his brains to think what could have happened that could make them discontent with their lot, but came up lacking. They’d all seemed perfectly happy to him—in fact, he’d never seen them happier. Omar and Babkak’s squabbling lasted from sunup to sundown, which was a sure sign that they were in good spirits. Perhaps Kassim had been even quieter than usual, but then he smiled more often now, too. Aladdin didn’t know what to make of it.

He stared at Kassim, his bewilderment plain on his face as he said, “Why? Have I done something you don’t—“

“No,” Kassim said, interrupting Aladdin’s almost stuttering response to this unexpected news. Aladdin fell silent immediately. Kassim almost _never_ interrupted anyone, so whatever this was, it must be serious. Kassim looked him directly in the eye and continued, “You have been an excellent leader and friend to us. We have never been happier in our lives than in these last two years with you.”

Aladdin nodded once in acknowledgement, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. This was high praise indeed from Kassim, who seldom wasted words on such things.

“However,” Kassim continued, “my brothers and I want still more that cannot be found in this nomadic way of life.” He paused and glanced away, toward the city upon whose outskirts they were camped, then looked back at Aladdin, who remained silent, waiting for him to continue. Aladdin saw a smile flit across the reticent man’s face as he took a breath and spoke again. “I am betrothed to be married.”

Aladdin was shocked silent for just a moment before the words truly registered with him, but when they did a wide grin broke out across his face. “Kassim, that’s fantastic news! Congratulations! Who is she? Will we get to meet her soon? When will the wedding be?”

Kassim really smiled now, and seemed relieved that Aladdin was happy for him. As if he would be anything else! No wonder Kassim seemed to be so happy lately! Aladdin thought he probably should have recognized the signs for what they were much earlier. Betrothed! Now how about that!

Kassim answered Aladdin’s barrage of questions in an orderly fashion, something he was rather good at. “Her name is Aziza. I hope you will come with me to meet her at least once before you go.”

“Of course!”

“We will be married in about four months’ time, though there is no set date yet. I will stay and work here until then. I believe Babkak also wishes to stay. He has said nothing to me, but I happen to know that he has a sweetheart in town.”

“Babkak, too? You’re just full of surprises for me today, my friend! So both of you want to stay here, and since you’re staying then Omar will stay with you.”

“Yes. Unless you want him? We’ll sell him to you cheap.”

Aladdin threw back his head and laughed, and Kassim joined in. Kassim seldom cracked jokes, but he could have a wicked sense of humor when he chose.

As their laughter died away, Kassim looked back at Aladdin with a question in his eyes. “I know that you wish to leave soon, but you are invited to the wedding, if you wish to return for it. I hope that both you and Yasmin can come.”

Aladdin smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Kassim, we wouldn’t miss it. We’ll continue traveling for the next few months, but we’ll be back here in time to see you get hitched. And maybe Babkak too, if things work out in his favor.”

Kassim returned Aladdin’s gesture, gripping his shoulder as he replied, “Thank you, my friend.”

Aladdin jerked his head in the direction of the tents. “Shall we go back? Yasmin will want to hear all about it.”

Kassim, however, hesitated, and Aladdin could see that there was something else on his mind. He waited. Perhaps the taciturn man would say what he wanted to, or perhaps he would decide to save it for another time. Either way, no amount of prodding from Aladdin would influence his decision.

Kassim took only a moment to come down in favor of speaking his mind, but he began hesitantly, as though unsure how his words would be received. “Aladdin, I was wondering. Have you thought of…perhaps…settling down?”

Aladdin’s brow furrowed in his confusion, but he tilted his head in an invitation for Kassim to continue.

“Traveling with you has been an adventure. I’ve seen and learned much. Times have been mostly good. But we have had our share of hardships on the road. It is tiresome to always be moving from one place to the next. Do you not want a place to call home?” 

Aladdin suddenly understood what Kassim was talking about. A shiver ran down his spine, but Kassim continued speaking, not noticing Aladdin’s suddenly frozen features.

“You and Yasmin have been traveling since before we met you nearly two years ago. That is a long time to be homeless. I would know. But you could stay here, with us. We could help each other, as we have before. You would not be alone. You both could make friends, have a family—don’t you want that?”

Aladdin could hear no more. He abruptly turned his head away so Kassim could not see his face and took a deep breath to try to compose himself.

His friend had seen more than Aladdin had realized. Neither he nor Yasmin had told the brothers their full history beyond very vague allusions to past events. The others had seemed to accept their unwillingness to talk about it—or at least, Kassim had accepted and forced Babkak and Omar to stop asking. But it would seem that the oldest brother had picked up on more than what little had been said.

Because Kassim was right. Aladdin _did_ want those things. He hadn’t even known he wanted them until relatively recently, but now home, and all that it implied, was something he longed for. 

Aladdin had no memory of ever having a home. He was pretty sure that was something he’d _never_ had. Ever since he could remember, ‘home’ was wherever he happened to find a safe place to sleep for a night or two. After his mother had died, he’d been too lost in grief and trying to simply survive from one day to the next to make any friends. Later he avoided connecting with people because he was ashamed of being a thief and a street rat.

He hadn’t realized how desperately lonely he’d been until he’d met Yasmin. She filled the aching hole in his heart that he’d become so accustomed to he’d barely even noticed it was there. She made him long for things that he’d thought impossible before. What’s more, he wanted to give those things to her, as much as he was able. What he wouldn’t give to have a home and family with her!

This feeling had been sneaking up on him for a while now, at least a year. Before, there had been the fear of capture that galvanized him to continue running, put as much distance between them and Agrabah as possible. But with each passing month, that fear had diminished until now Aladdin felt that it was something he could put behind him. He didn’t feel like they needed to keep running anymore. It was unlikely anyone was still looking for them. Perhaps they could rest now.

There was something else though, that was holding him back. He wished he could propose marriage to Yasmin like Kassim had proposed to his beloved Aziza. But there was still something unresolved between them: the matter of her father.

Yasmin had never told him who her father was, nor had she spoken more about her life before she met him. He had thought that she just needed time, that she would eventually tell him if he let her come around to it on her own. But she never had. Aladdin was beginning to doubt she had any intention of telling him at all. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t important, that it didn’t mean anything—but he couldn’t silence the voice in his head that whispered that she was keeping something of herself apart from him. Aladdin was sure she trusted him and loved him. He just didn’t know if what she felt for him was enough. He didn’t know if _he_ was enough.

Aladdin felt a hand on his shoulder. He took another deep breath and turned to meet Kassim’s concerned gaze. He smiled at his friend, but it felt false to him, and he knew Kassim was not fooled. He remained silent, waiting for Aladdin to respond.

“My friend,” Aladdin started slowly, fighting to keep his voice even and controlled, “the picture you paint for me is more than tempting. But I cannot stay. Perhaps someday. But now is not the time.”

Kassim’s eyes searched his, and he seemed to understand something from them, though Aladdin wasn’t sure what it was the older man saw. He finally nodded. “Perhaps someday, then,” he said, and Aladdin relaxed a bit. Kassim’s hand squeezed his shoulder, then slipped away.

“And until then, you will still come to visit us, won’t you? Our doors will always be open.”

Aladdin smiled again, this time with genuine feeling. “Of course! Starting with your wedding. Speaking of which,” he said and began walking back toward the tents, “Yasmin will kill us both if we keep her in the dark for long. Besides, this news deserves a celebration!”

Kassim fell in step with Aladdin and smiled back, seeming relieved. “I’m glad you think so. I was a bit worried that you would be disappointed or angry that we have chosen a different path than yours.”

Aladdin stopped walking and turned to Kassim, who pulled up beside him. “Kassim, my friend, how could I be anything but happy for you? You’ve been my friend for two years, and though I’m sad that we must part now, that sadness is light compared to my happiness for what you’ve found instead.”

“And what is that?”

“Only the best thing in the whole world, or so I’ve found it—love.”

♠ ♣ ♥ ♣ ♠

_The song came to an end, and Yasmin stumbled back into Aladdin’s arms, dizzy from twirling, smiling for all she was worth. Aladdin couldn’t help smiling back at her evident happiness. He reached into his pocket and took out three of their precious coins._

_As he reached out to place them in the hat, though, another hand covered it, stopping him. He looked up to find the boy with the stringed instrument, who appeared to be the oldest of the three, smiling at him. “There is no need for that,” he said._

_Aladdin was confused. “Why not? Surely this is the reason you set the hat here in the first place.” He smiled at the other boy. “You play very well. My lady and I greatly enjoyed it. I want to give you something in return for the happiness you brought us. Won’t you accept it?”_

_“You have already given us something,” the boy replied. “To see someone enjoy our music so much is reward in and of itself.” Aladdin opened his mouth to protest, but the boy continued. “Also, the lady’s dancing attracted far more attention than we ever did on our own.” He shook the hat to demonstrate, jangling the many coins they had collected. “We should be thanking her, not the other way around.”_

_Aladdin was impressed with the boy’s honesty and sense of fairness. He didn’t owe Aladdin or Yasmin anything just for appreciating their music. In fact, anyone else might have been rightly offended that someone had clearly enjoyed their music but not contributed to the hat. Aladdin opened his mouth again to argue his point, but he was suddenly struck by a flash of inspiration._

_He looked at Yasmin, eyebrow raised in question, to find her nodding at him vigorously, a smile on her face. He was delighted to find her already on the same page with him. God, he loved this woman._

_Aladdin looked back at the boy. “What’s your name?”_

_“I’m Kassim, and these are my brothers, Babkak and Omar.”_

_“Well Kassim, this is Yasmin, and my name is Aladdin. We have an idea to share with you and your brothers, if you’d like to hear it. It should prove to be very profitable for all of us.”_

_Kassim grinned at him and shook the hand Aladdin had extended. “Lead on, then, Aladdin.”_


	16. Straight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, does anyone want to beta this story? Maybe it’s a bit late for this, seeing as we’re already on Chapter 16, but better late than never. Right? Anyway, I’m all good on grammar and spelling, mechanics, style, that sort of thing. I can do that for myself, so what I’m more interested in is someone who can help with character and plot development and just read through the chapters and let me know about typos or confusing sentence structure. If you or someone you know would be interested in that, please let me know!
> 
> ln(♪)

It was almost evening when Jasmine and Aladdin entered the city of Dhuuma. They did not use the same gate they had the last time they had entered this city almost two years ago, but they were still streaked with dust and sweat, and tired from the long journey. Jasmine was glad they had arrived when they did. Dark clouds threatened on the horizon, and she wanted to have camp set up before the storm broke.

As they walked through the streets, seeking a place to rest and wash themselves, Jasmine looked around. She couldn’t see anything unusual, but there was a subtle difference to everything she saw. Things were not quite as she remembered them, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. She continued to walk beside Aladdin, staring around at the familiar landscape that felt unfamiliar.

Though perhaps it wasn’t the town that seemed strange to her. Something else had her preoccupied lately. Aladdin had been oddly quiet the last few days, almost somber. It wasn’t like him at all. At first she’d thought he was down because they were parting ways with their three good friends Babkak, Omar, and Kassim. He had said more than once that he would miss them, and truth be told, Jasmine didn’t exactly feel overjoyed either now that they were gone. She had thought it was this parting that was weighing Aladdin down, but she was now beginning to think there was something else on his mind.

She watched him covertly as they set up camp, drew water from the well, and prepared the evening meal (not nearly as good as Kassim’s cooking, but they made out all right). Aladdin was still mostly silent, and he seemed almost contemplative. Jasmine knew that if parting from their friends was what was bothering him, he would talk to her about it. There was no reason not to—she missed them as much as he did. She would ask him, get him to talk to her tonight before they turned in. If something was troubling him, then she wanted to help him if she could.

They bathed one after the other, Aladdin allowing her to go first so that the water would be clean for her. Sometimes they bathed together, washing the dust from each other’s bodies, and Jasmine always enjoyed that intimacy. But this time she thought it would be best to give him some space until she had the chance to talk to him. She spread out their bedroll as he washed, thinking about what she might say to him to get him to open up. He was seldom ever like this. He didn’t usually keep things that bothered him to himself—he was always an open book to her, so his silence now disturbed her.

By the time he finally entered the tent, chest bare and hair dripping from his bath, she thought she knew where to start. 

“I miss them,” she said, and she didn’t need to explain herself for Aladdin to know what she meant.

He looked at her and nodded. “I know. Me too.”

“It seems weird, because Babkak and Omar were always going at each other and sometimes it nearly drove me crazy! But I even miss _that_ about them, you know?”

Aladdin grinned a little, and Jasmine’s spirits lifted a bit to see that. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Really?”

“All right, maybe not that, but I would certainly put up with the bickering to have them around again.” She paused. “Actually, Kassim was almost worse than those two.”

Aladdin’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Yeah. He was _too_ quiet. He never came out and said what he was thinking or what he wanted. You practically had to pry it out of him. At least with Babkak and Omar there was never any doubt—you always knew where they stood.”

“I suppose there is that to be said for them,” Aladdin replied absently, turning away to rummage in one of their bags.

“But I do miss Kassim too, of course.”

“Of course.”

“But not so much that I want you to start acting like him.”

That got Aladdin’s attention. He turned back to her, sitting on the bedroll looking at him. “What?” he said again, but Jasmine could see from the way his eyes didn’t quite meet hers that he had an idea of what she was driving at.

“You’ve been about as talkative as Kassim the last few days. What’s bothering you?”

Aladdin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Jasmine scooted closer to him on the bedroll, placing her arms around him from behind and dropping a kiss on his shoulder.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Yes, I know,” Aladdin replied, but Jasmine could hear no conviction in his voice. She waited, frozen with tension.

“Funny you should mention Kassim.” Aladdin’s tone tried for lightness but didn’t quite manage it. “I’ve just been thinking lately…about something he said.”

Jasmine grinned against his shoulder. “Kassim actually said something?” Her attempt at levity came off a bit better than Aladdin’s, but when she pulled away and positioned herself at his side she could see that it had not reached him. The look on his face was still distant.

“He asked us to stay with them.” Aladdin’s voice was low, but steady. “He wanted us to quit the nomad life and settle down in Ebicholi with them.”

Jasmine hadn’t known that, but she still wasn’t sure why it had caused so much brooding on Aladdin’s part. “That was sweet of him to offer.”

Aladdin nodded. “I almost considered taking him up on it.”

Jasmine’s brow furrowed. “You know that we can’t.”

“And why is that?”

Jasmine stared. Had Aladdin lost his mind? “Well…” She paused and swallowed to wet her suddenly dry throat. “There could be people still looking for us.”

Aladdin shook his head. “It’s been nearly two years, Yasmin. I doubt anyone is still looking for us.”

“Maybe not. But then again, maybe they are. And if they are, Ebicholi is too close to…Agrabah.”

Aladdin’s shoulders slumped and his head dropped. “That’s true enough.” Then he lifted his head and looked her in the eye for the first time that evening. “There are other cities though. Cities that are far away, where we’d be safe. We could find a place…”

“I thought we were talking about staying with our friends. Kassim and Babkak aren’t going to want to leave Ebicholi.”

“No, they won’t, but that’s not quite what I meant.” Aladdin dropped his eyes again, bringing one hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Yasmin, have you ever thought about, maybe…settling down?”

Jasmine was speechless when Aladdin glanced up at her again. “I…“

“I don’t necessarily mean in Ebicholi,” Aladdin continued quickly. “Heaven knows I’ll miss those three, but if we find the right place, we’ll make new friends. We could…” Aladdin cleared his throat, and continued more softly. “Maybe we could find a house, start a family.” She felt his eyes pierce her soul as he said, “We could have a real home, Yasmin.”

Jasmine’s eyes were narrowed with confusion. “Aladdin, what brought this on? I didn’t think you’d be one for settling down. I thought you wanted to travel the world.”

Aladdin half smiled at her. “It surprised me too, a bit. This feeling…it’s been sneaking up on me, I think, over the last couple of months. Don’t get me wrong—I like traveling too, but…”

A complicated look passed over his face, and he was silent so long that Jasmine had to prompt him to speak. “But?”

“I’ve never really had a home before,” he said softly, gazing into the distance. “Or a family. I barely remember my mother…” He sighed. “I want to have that, Yasmin. And I want it with you.” He met her eyes again. “You’re the only one I can ever imagine wanting that with.”

Jasmine couldn’t hold his gaze. She looked down at her hands in her lap, biting her lip, trying to think of how to respond to Aladdin’s sudden revelation.

She was amazed that Aladdin was thinking about these things. Jasmine rarely thought about the future farther than the next day, and when she did, she usually imagined that they’d be doing much the same thing they were now, only in a different city, maybe a different country. Now she forced herself to imagine it—settling down, having a family—and found that she couldn’t. She couldn’t really see herself doing any of those things.

Oh, she could see herself happily spending the rest of her life with Aladdin, she just wasn’t sure about the rest of it.

How could she think about settling down when she still didn’t feel free?

She looked back up and found Aladdin still watching her, waiting patiently for her to respond. She dropped her gaze again.

“I guess I’m just not ready for all that,” she almost whispered.

She felt Aladdin’s hand on her knee and saw his wistful smile.

“That’s fine. I’m not saying we need to do all those things right now, immediately. This isn’t the right place for us to live anyway. But I thought—“ and here he broke off and a queer look crossed his face. Then he grinned a little. “Huh, it occurs to me that I’ve never actually asked you to marry me before.”

Jasmine’s head snapped up and she stared at Aladdin. He was still smiling, but his eyes were serious.

“Will you, Yasmin? Marry me?” His voice was soft and earnest, and Jasmine couldn’t take her eyes off him. When he reached out to take her hands in his, something hot settled in her chest even as her heart constricted. She opened her mouth to answer him, but nothing came out.

There was a part of her, and it was not a small part, that wanted to tell him yes. She had almost said it just now, but something had held her back, and she knew exactly what it was.

When she had heard him use a false name to ask for her hand, it reminded her of everything she used to be. She remembered her childhood home, and her former life, and most of all she remembered her father. She felt tears prick her eyes. She remembered the last conversation she’d had with him, when he’d told her that he wished to see her married to know that she would be taken care of when he was gone. He had looked forward to her wedding and her future.

And now here was Aladdin who wanted to have all that with her, and he didn’t even know her true name.

She really wanted to say yes. She hadn’t imagined, two years ago, that she would ever want to say it this badly. But she couldn’t.

“I—Married?” She finally managed to stammer out a response. “You want to get married?”

Aladdin was no longer smiling—his face was completely serious as he replied. “Yes, I do.” He paused for a moment. “Don’t you?”

“I—I don’t know,” she finally managed, and Aladdin frowned. He withdrew from her a bit, letting go her hands. She hurried on. “I mean, we’re already as good as married, aren’t we? I—I’ve pretty much thought of us that way long before now, Aladdin.”

Aladdin’s frown softened. He reached up and brushed a strand of her hair from her forehead. “Then why not make it official?” he murmured. His hand traced her cheek.

She knew she ought to tell him the truth—at least part of it.

“It—it wouldn’t really feel right. Not without—without my father there.”

Aladdin’s hand dropped from her face. “Your father…” he said softly, with no inflection.

Jasmine looked down. “I suppose I’m being silly—“

“No, you’re not,” Aladdin interrupted her. “He’s your father. Of course he should be at your wedding.” Jasmine glanced up at the bitterness that laced his tone, but his face was closed to her.

The low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and echoed in the silence of the tent.

Aladdin stood and crossed the tent, his back to her. “I suppose you realize the difficulties of having your father at our wedding.” His voice was toneless, controlled.

Jasmine took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened. “Yes, I know.”

Aladdin shook his head, his face cast in shadow. “I don’t even know who he is. Is it right that I marry his daughter when I don’t even know his name, nor he mine?”

He looked back at her, and Jasmine knew what he was going to say even before he said it. He had never asked the question of her before, not once in the two years she had known him, but tonight he would.

“Who is he, Yasmin?”

Jasmine could only shake her head, unable to speak around the tightness in her throat that came from holding back her tears.

“Why won’t you tell me who your father is?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, but it could not be worse if he had shouted.

“That’s in the past. It’s not important anymore.” Her voice was hoarse, strangled on suppressed sobs. Tears made their way down her cheeks.

Aladdin ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear in the tension of his shoulders. “You say that it’s not important anymore, but you’re obviously still afraid of something.” He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was hesitant. “Is it me?”

“What?”

He swallowed hard. “Are you afraid of me? Is that why you won’t tell me?” His face was so sad as he said it that Jasmine wanted to say something to deny it, but all she could do was shake her head vehemently in answer.

“Please, Yasmin. What is it?”

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and looked away from his pained gaze. Her voice was shaking as she finally said, “I’m afraid—of what you’ll do if I tell you.” She closed her eyes and let the tears fall unchecked.

She heard Aladdin move. She almost expected him to leave the tent, but she instead felt him kneel on the blanket in front of her. He took her face gently in his hand and guided her eyes up to meet his. She was surprised to see unshed tears of his own there.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Yasmin.” His gaze was sad and solemn as he looked at her. Please don’t be afraid. Please trust me.”

Jasmine could no longer hold back her sobs. She fell against his chest as she cried, and he just held her, stroking her hair and murmuring comforting words in her ear. She heard his breath hitch more than once, and she thought she felt tears that were not her own on her bare shoulder.

She didn’t know how long they stayed that way, but he held her as the wind rose and the sound of rain falling on the cover of the tent began. He held her as lightning flashed and she saw the light even through closed eyelids. He pulled her down to the blankets and held her through the storm, and when the rain had finally ceased, so had her tears.

♠ ♠ ♥ ♠ ♠

Far away, the thunder resounded in the dark night, and a dark man woke with a dark purpose. 


	17. Queen of Spades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Magic713 for agreeing to beta this fic! You did a great job on this chapter!

It had been a long time since Jafar was last forced to don a disguise.

This time, however, it was necessary. Dhuuma was not so large or so far from Agrabah that he would not arouse curiosity if he wore the vestments of the Sultan’s royal vizier. This being a stealth mission, he had left such robes behind and was dressed as a simple merchant, face covered with a false beard.

As he walked through the city’s main market, he chafed at the indignity of having to look for his quarry himself. Had he not done enough simply by unraveling the secrets of the Cave of Wonders and devising a way to locate the Diamond in the Rough? Must he now also schlep through the marketplace among the common rabble to achieve his goal?

Jafar was frustrated by this, but he had learned his lesson from two years ago. He could not entrust this task to Razoul or any of the royal guard. The boy had already soundly outwitted them many, many times. Oh, Razoul was here of course, along with a small contingent of his men, specially chosen for the occasion, but Jafar had left them at the inn and ordered them not to set a foot outside. Though they were dressed in plain clothes and not their uniforms, Jafar didn’t want to run the risk of the boy catching sight of them and taking off. It simply would not do for Razoul to mess this up for him now, not after two years of waiting for another thunderstorm with just the right conditions to power the scrying glass that had shown him where to find the Diamond.

No, Jafar was being far more cautious this time. He had not even brought Iago with him, though it would have been far easier for Iago to spot their quarry with his ability to fly over the crowd. The bird was simply far too recognizable, especially to the princess. If she caught sight of Iago, she would know that Jafar was close by and alert the boy. He had underestimated the both of them before, and he would not make that mistake again. 

This time, he _would_ possess the Diamond.

Jafar had searched almost every inch of the market and was beginning to think they weren’t there when he heard the sound of a drum being played. Curiosity aroused, he made his way over to a large knot of people that were gathered at the end of the market. Jafar being a tall man, he did not need to push to the front of the crowd to see what they were looking at.

The sight that met his eyes was unexpected, on a number of levels. He had not expected there to be a girl dancing to the beat of the drum he’d heard. He also did not expect that he could be so… _captivated_ by any woman dancing, but this girl was so alluring, so enchanting in her graceful movements that he could not seem to look away. Her short skirt swirled around her long, smooth legs with every leap and twirl. Her top exposed a few inches of her slender midriff and the entirety of her shapely arms. Her small, delicate hands seemed almost to beckon to him. When she kicked up her leg, he saw that she was barefoot. Her tiny, exposed foot seemed almost more intimate to him than all the rest.

It took him several minutes to force his gaze away from her body and to her face, for surely a girl so fair in form must also be fair of face. That was when he discovered the most unexpected sight of all: it was the princess.

Jasmine, the princess of Agrabah, was dancing for coins in the street.

Jafar had never seen anything so shocking—and he was riveted.

He was shaken from his transfixed state when he heard singing, and realized that it was coming from the drummer, who was none other than the boy Aladdin.

The boy’s voice brought Jafar back to his senses, and he withdrew to the shade of an awning nearby that still afforded a clear view of the pair.

He had finally found them. It had taken him two years of frustration and waiting, but success was finally within his reach.

This time, he vowed, they would not escape.

♠

They had not even been in Dhuuma a week, but already Aladdin wanted to move on. Jasmine didn’t blame him—Dhuuma was too close to Agrabah by far, and she would not rest easy until they were on their way. She rummaged around their tent, packing what she could in preparation for their journey on the morrow.

It had been a difficult week. They hadn’t found any other musicians to join them, so Jasmine danced alone to the beat of a single drum. Not that she minded, but it would attract more attention and more coin to have more than one instrument playing. This was reflected in the very modest sum they had managed to collect in the market so far. Tonight there would be only leftover bread for supper.

Their meager earnings did not stop Aladdin from giving it away though. It never had, not once in all the time she’d known him. He was always ready with a coin or bit of food and a kind word for the urchins that flocked around them. She didn’t mind, truly, even when it meant there was less for themselves. She still remembered how difficult it had been for her and Aladdin when they’d lived on the streets of Agrabah. She also remembered Najida and Rami, and how much harder it had been for them as children.

She could hear Aladdin outside now, talking with one of the boys they’d befriended over the course of the last week as he cleaned up their campsite. Faizal had just arrived to tell them goodbye, she was sure, so she finished with the bag she was packing and stepped outside.

A short, skinny boy was bent over and sweeping the area outside the tent. He gave her an upside-down gap-toothed grin between his legs when he caught sight of her. “Hi Yasmin!” He waved at her and almost fell on his head in the process.

“Careful there, Faizal. You’ll crack your head open if you let a pretty girl get the better of you,” Aladdin said with a smile.

Faizal just grinned wider and righted himself. “Who wouldn’t fall head over heels for a girl like Yasmin?” He answered, batting his eyelashes.

“Who indeed?” Aladdin responded, and winked at the boy.

“Flatterers,” Jasmine accused, and Faizal giggled.

Jasmine smiled at him. He was a clever boy, and funny, and she was sad to have to leave him behind. But it seemed that she was always sad when they had to leave children behind.

“What did you do today, oh ye of the silver tongue?” she asked, teasing.

“Me and Beni helped the innkeeper’s wife carry water. She gave us some stew after.”

“Wow, that sounds much better than what I ate today,” Aladdin said. Then he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial but carrying whisper. “Yasmin tried cooking beans,” he hissed, and made a comically exaggerated face.

Jasmine reached over to whap the back of Aladdin’s head and he made a show of ducking, which made Faizal erupt in a fit of giggles.

When Faizal had calmed down a bit, Yasmin said, “That’s good, Faizal. Do you often help the innkeeper’s wife?”

“No, not usually,” he said. “But today she needed help ‘cause there’s a lot of people staying there right now.”

“I see.” Jasmine was a bit disappointed to find that the inn was not a steady source of meals for the boy.

“Yeah, they’re really busy,” Faizal continued. “They had a big group of travelers come in this morning and they’ve stayed there all day.” He frowned. “They were real mean. One of ‘em tried to kick Beni when he dropped a bowl. Called us street rats and pushed us around till Obed sent us back to help his wife.”

Aladdin frowned. “They’re not staying long, are they?”

Faizal shrugged. “Dunno. Obed said they were from Agrabah, so maybe they’re on their way back home.”

Jasmine stiffened when she heard the boy mention Agrabah. She saw Aladdin glance at her. Jasmine was suddenly very glad they were leaving tomorrow. This place was too close to her past by far, and she never wanted to dredge it up again, especially after what had happened just a few nights ago.

The sun was sinking fast, and Faizal wanted to leave before full dark. He hugged them both as he told them goodbye, and Aladdin and Jasmine both pretended they hadn’t seen him turn away to wipe his eyes. Aladdin pressed one of their scant coins into his hand.

“Take care of yourself, Faizal,” Aladdin said. “Keep your chin up and who knows? Maye we’ll see each other again one day.”

Faizal nodded. “Thanks,” he said, and Jasmine could hear the tightness in his voice. “You too.”

And then he was off, running across the flat ground and eventually disappearing into a twisting alley. He didn’t look back, but Jasmine watched him until he was gone.

When she turned back to Aladdin, the sun had finally disappeared below the horizon and everything was cast in long shadows. He grinned a bit at her.

“Need help with the packing?”

Jasmine exhaled a long breath and smiled back. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

They had very few things, so packing wouldn’t really take long. She didn’t really need the help, but she wanted him beside her tonight. She ducked inside the tent, Aladdin following, and started again on the bag she’d been filling. Aladdin pulled another one out and began filling it with the food they’d need for the journey. They were mostly silent as they worked. They hadn’t talked as freely with each other lately, not since that night. Jasmine wondered if he’d break the silence tonight. She wondered if he’d bring up the news Faizal had brought them.

After some time, he did speak. “I’m glad we’re leaving in the morning. I don’t want to be here if there are ruffians from Agrabah wandering around.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Jasmine answered, relieved that he seemed more communicative tonight. “I’m glad Faizal told us about them.”

Aladdin nodded. “We’ll have to take extra care to avoid them when we leave tomorrow morning. We shouldn’t run into them though. If they are headed back, they’re going the opposite way from us.”

There was silence for a few moments. Jasmine didn’t like the silence; there’d been too much of it lately. She spoke again, just to try to engage Aladdin in conversation.

“Even if we did run into them, what are the chances they’d recognize us? It’s been two years, after all.”

Aladdin frowned. “You never know who might be watching,” was all he said, and silence fell again.

Jasmine glanced over at him. She was pretty sure she knew why Aladdin wasn’t really talking to her, and it had everything to do with what had happened a few nights ago, when she’d cried herself to sleep in his arms.

They hadn’t spoken of it since. Jasmine still hadn’t told him who she used to be, and she didn’t want to either. She wasn’t even exactly sure why he wanted to know so badly all of a sudden. They’d lived together for years without either of them mentioning it—why did he have to bring it up now? Why couldn’t her past just stay buried? What possible difference could it make now, after two years?

But she was aware that her reticence had hurt him. She needed to clear the air, make him see why it was better to just leave the past in the past.

She looked over at him, bent over the bag and making sure everything was packed just right so the weight was evenly distributed. His brows were drawn together in thought. Was he still thinking about Faizal’s news, or just concentrating on the task at hand? She frowned. He seemed almost…tired. She didn’t want to bother him, but she knew they should have this conversation now. She might not get another good chance like this for a while.

She cleared her throat. “Aladdin, I—“

Aladdin’s head shot up. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Aladdin frowned and stood. “I’m going to go check it out. It’s probably nothing, but I’m sure I heard something. I’ll be right back.”

Jasmine nodded, and Aladdin strode from the tent. There was silence once more, but Jasmine kept her ears open as she continued packing her bag.

There was only a moment of peace in which Jasmine could hear the breeze rustling the tent. Then she heard a loud _whump_ , like something hard hitting something softer, and then came a cry that froze her blood.

“Yasmin, go—!”

At Aladdin’s panicked shout, Jasmine leapt to her feet. Without hesitation, she ducked under the back flap of the tent and hit the ground running. It was darker outside than in the candle-lit tent, and her eyes barely had time to adjust before she saw a dark shape looming out of the blackness in front of her. She ducked to avoid its outstretched arm and swerved left, but there was another man running up to intercept her. She tried to change directions to avoid this one too, but she had to slow a bit to do it and she hadn’t realized how close behind her the first man was.

Her head jerked back and a cry escaped her throat as the man pursuing her grabbed a fistful of her streaming hair and pulled her up short. She stumbled back, then turned and struck out at the man holding her. Her fist connected with his jaw. He grunted in pain, but didn’t let her go, instead yanking painfully on her hair again.

By that time the other man had reached them and grabbed her upper arms from behind, pulling her back against him. When the first man’s hold on her hair loosened, she whipped her head back hard and felt the back of her skull connect with the other man’s face. He cried out and actually released his hold on her, but the first man was ready for her when she tried to bolt. He seized her around the waist and tackled her to the ground. Jasmine tried to rise, but the man was lying half over her and she could barely breathe, let alone move.

“Got you now, missy,” he hissed in her ear, and Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut when she caught a whiff of his foul breath. “C’mon, Abdul, quit your whinin’ and help me tie her up.”

The man yanked her to her knees and held her hands behind her back as the one he’d referred to as Abdul approached with rope to tie them. Jasmine caught a glimpse of something dark and wet on the lower part of his face. She’d probably bloodied his nose. Good.

The two men frog-marched her back to the tent as she spat out sand and wondered if Aladdin had managed to get away. Who were these people anyway? They weren’t wearing uniforms, just plain, dark clothes. She didn’t think she recognized these two, but it was dark and she could barely make out their faces.

As they rounded the tent, the first thing to draw her eyes was Aladdin, already bound and gagged, surrounded by four men in dark clothes. When he saw her, he renewed his struggles, but the biggest man standing near him socked him in the gut, hard. He doubled over in pain, and the big man used his new position to push him to his knees, laughing as he did. Jasmine thought there was something definitely familiar about that laugh…

Before she could get close enough to see the man’s face through the darkness, the two holding her also shoved her to her knees. They did not gag her as they had Aladdin, but Jasmine did not speak. She knew better than to say anything until she knew more about what was going on.

Two of the men lit torches, and the flickering light threw Aladdin’s features into sharp relief. Her heart tightened as she could now make out what was certainly blood dripping from his hairline. It was most likely his.

Aladdin met her eyes then, and the determination reflected on his face eased her own fear. They would win this. They could find a way out of this together. Maybe if she could start working the ropes on her wrists loose…

Her escape plan was stillborn, however, when she heard a very familiar voice say, “Excellent work, men. You’ve finally managed to prove your worth.”

Her heart turned to ice in her chest. It was all she could do to force herself to turn her head, wide eyes seeking the source of that sibilant, unctuous voice.

She found it when a familiar, tall figure dressed all in black stepped into the torchlight.

Jafar.

Yesterday she would never have imagined that she would see this awful man again. She had been quite glad to see the back of him when she had first left the palace, but beyond that had never given him a thought since. But now he was here, in front of her, looking like a nightmare come true with his slanted, dark eyes and twisted, black goatee. He leaned on his golden, cobra-head staff, and the thing’s red eyes seemed to wink in the wavering torchlight.

How did he find her?

She forced herself to push away her shock and fear and concentrate on the situation at hand as Jafar continued speaking. “Though it seems, captain, that one of your men was almost unequal to the task.” His mildly amused gaze landed on Abdul, who was still trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose.

The big man laughed again, and Jasmine realized with a start that it was Razoul, the captain of the guard. Anger boiled in her stomach as she remembered the last time she had seen him, when he had nearly strangled Aladdin. She wanted nothing more right now than to smash another urn over his smirking head. Or possibly a mace.

She was reminded that she had bigger problems though when Jafar’s gaze swept over to her. She steeled herself to meet his eyes without flinching, but his cold stare still made her feel as small and helpless as a bug pinned to a board.

“So,” he said, and the way he drew the word out made it sound more like a hiss than anything. “We meet again at last. It’s been two years—I do hope you haven’t forgotten me.”

“I remember you, Jafar. All too well,” she spat, letting every ounce of contempt she could muster seep into her voice.

Jafar only smiled that sick, twisted smile that Jasmine had forgotten she hated so much. “And what about your father, hmm? Do you remember him, too?”

Jasmine did not answer. She only glared at him and tried not to let it show how close to home those words had struck.

“To all appearances, it would seem as though you _had_ forgotten him,” Jafar continued. “Here you are, alive and well, and quite able to do as you please, but without even the courtesy to let anyone know what has become of you. But I know that your father has not forgotten you. He continues the search, despite the fact that all the evidence seems to declare you dead. Not a day goes by that he does not pray that you will be found, and soon.”

Jasmine fought against the lump in her throat. She must not cry, not now…

“Yes, your father has missed you dearly these past years.” Jafar paused, and his gaze swept over Aladdin. “Imagine how disappointed he’ll be to hear how you’ve debased yourself with this common criminal.”

Jasmine’s sadness turned to rage in an instant. “How _dare_ you—“

“Don’t you talk to _me_ that way, girl!” Jafar’s eyes flashed with ire as he narrowed his gaze on her. “You may have a title, but you have not upheld the responsibilities that are expected of it. Your actions have been nothing short of reprehensible. You do not deserve to rule, _princess_.”

In the ringing silence that followed Jafar’s pronouncement, Jasmine heard a soft sound, like a muffled gasp. She turned to find Aladdin staring at her as though he’d never seen anything like her before. Jasmine’s heart sank.

Aladdin’s surprise, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed by Jafar. His mouth stretched in a nasty grin. “Don’t tell me that he didn’t know!” he said, almost cackling. Jasmine scrambled for something to say to deflect Jafar’s attention. She came up short. She wished Aladdin would stop _staring_ at her; it was making it difficult to concentrate.

Jafar was practically gleeful. “You mean to say that all this time, nearly two years, and he never knew who you really were?” Jasmine only glared at him, defiant. “ _Well_ then,” Jafar continued, “I think it’s high time you were properly introduced.” He turned to Aladdin and motioned grandly towards Jasmine with his staff, his every word and gesture mocking.

“May I present the daughter and only child of his Excellency the Sultan of Agrabah, her Royal Highness Princess Jasmine.”

Aladdin’s eyes seemed to grow even wider, and he had yet to look away from her. Then Razoul laughed and said, “You must _bow_ before the princess, boy!” and he seized Aladdin’s hair and shoved his head down, forcing Aladdin to bend forward at the waist. He nearly overbalanced, but Razoul’s grip on his hair forcibly kept him from falling on his face. Razoul and the guards roared with laughter; even Jafar added his high cackle to the uproar. Aladdin’s face flushed with shame, and Jasmine could tell even in the dim light that he was trying to hold back tears.

She couldn’t bear to see the shock on his face, or the pain. She looked away.

“That is _enough_ , Jafar,” she said as the laughter began to die down. She tried to make her voice strong and commanding, but it came out softer than she wanted it to. “You’ve had your fun. Now let him go.”

The game was up. That was painfully clear to her. Aladdin knew everything now. He had learned the truth in the worst possible way. Jafar was clearly here to take her back to the palace, and she knew better than to think that she could convince him to let her go. However, she thought that perhaps she could at least get him to let Aladdin go. It was the very least she could do now.

Jafar wiped tears of merriment from his eyes. “What’s that, princess?”

Jasmine forced herself to speak calmly. “You caught me. I’ll come with you quietly. But you should let him go. There’s no reason to apprehend him.”

“Isn’t there?” Jafar said, looking at her with an amused glint in his eye. “I would say that kidnapping the princess is quite deserving of apprehension.”

“He didn’t kidnap me!” Jasmine replied, desperate to make him understand. “You saw yourself that he didn’t know who I was.”

“Does that matter?” Jafar glanced at Aladdin with a cruel smile. “He still took you away from your home and prevented you from going back. He has dragged you all over the desert, dressed you in rags, and forced you to dance barefoot in the street for coin. I think that’s deserving enough of time spent in the dungeon.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Jasmine tried hard to keep the rising bubble of panic in her chest from breaking through into her voice.

“I doubt the Sultan will see it that way,” Jafar replied coolly. “And besides, the boy is a criminal even without the charges of kidnapping. Razoul has told me many times that he is a thief and a swindler. He’s nothing more than a gutter rat.”

Jasmine risked a glance at Aladdin, but she couldn’t see his face. Razoul had released him, but his head was still bowed. Jasmine wished she could think of something, anything, to say to save him, but she knew now that Jafar would never listen to her.

Jafar turned away and gave a command to one of the guards holding a torch. “Light the signal,” he said, and the man moved forward, past Aladdin and Jasmine and their guards, and thrust the torch into their tent.

Jasmine let out a shocked cry. She began to struggle against the two men holding her, but they easily held her back. Fire spread across the sides of the tent.

“What are you doing?! Stop this!” she shrieked, but no one listened. “Jafar, stop—“

“I’ve heard enough,” Jafar spoke over her. He signaled to her guards, and one of them immediately pushed a gag into her mouth. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched flames lick up the fabric of the tent and dark smoke billow into the night sky. She couldn’t seem to look away, even when she heard the sound of approaching hooves and wheels. She barely even registered what was happening until she heard Jafar speak again.

“Put the princess in the wagon. The boy you can tie behind a camel. Let him walk back to Agrabah.”

She felt two pairs of hands trying to lift her to her feet, and it was only then that she looked away and saw a large, cumbersome prison wagon, essentially a box on wheels, that had arrived. She tried one last time to get away from her captors, to fight, but it was useless. They pushed her into the wagon.

Before they closed the door on her, her eyes sought Aladdin. She found him still kneeling between two guards, staring at the fiery blaze of their tent. The firelight cast his face in red light and dark shadows, and Jasmine thought she had never seen him wear a more hopeless aspect.

The fire shimmered in the unshed tears in his eyes as he watched everything they had go up in smoke.


	18. Ace of Spades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** This chapter is rated M for violence. Do not read the last seven paragraphs in this chapter if this will bother you.
> 
> Thanks again to Magic713 for the great beta work on this chapter!

Jasmine woke with a start as the wagon jolted to a halt. She sat up and stretched. She was sore and aching from the journey. She’d been given a blanket, but it made little difference lying on the hard, wood floor of the bumping, jostling wagon. She’d barely been allowed out of the wagon at all the whole trip. She was going stir-crazy. She couldn’t even see out unless she pulled herself up by the bars on the window, and that got tiring fast. 

She wondered how Aladdin was. She wished they hadn’t made him walk. She had only caught a glimpse of him once during the journey, and it had been from afar. He hadn’t seen her.

Something had changed now, though. She could hear more voices than just those of the guards. There seemed to be a crowd of people outside. Jasmine grasped the bars of her prison and lifted herself until her toes barely brushed the floor so she could see out. High walls stretched into the distance outside the tiny window. She recognized these walls, having fallen from them once before. They had reached Agrabah.

She heard Jafar call out in a commanding tone, and they were moving again, passing through the gate and into the streets, then winding their way steadily up toward the palace.

Jasmine remained at the window, though her arms began to burn from the effort of holding herself up. Everything was so _familiar_ to her. The city had barely changed at all in the two years she’d been gone. They passed a street that she knew would lead to the main market, one she had walked many times by Aladdin’s side. A little farther on she saw an alley partially covered by an awning, where she and Aladdin had slept several times. She saw a fish merchant whom she recognized, who always watched the two of them with unconcealed suspicion whenever they were anywhere near his stand. She saw a woman who had always smiled at her when she passed her in the street.

Finally, the wagon turned down the street on which the abandoned house where she and Aladdin had spent their last night in the city was located. She looked for the house as they passed, but it was gone. It had been torn down. There was now only a gaping hole left where it once had been. Jasmine let herself slide back to the floor of the wagon, blinking back tears. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her forehead on her knees. Even when the wagon paused again at the walls of the palace, she did not look up. She knew what the palace looked like. She never wanted to see it again.

The wagon lurched to a final stop, and she heard Razoul barking orders at his men. Then the door to her prison swung open and the hulking form of the captain of the guard stood framed in the doorway. “You’re home, princess,” he said, and held out his hand to help her out.

Jasmine ignored his offered hand as she stood on her own and shouldered past him, squinting as she stepped out into the bright sunlight. She looked immediately for Aladdin but did not see him anywhere, nor could she find Jafar.

“Where is Aladdin?” she demanded, raising her chin and levelling a cool gaze at the captain.

“The boy is in the dungeon, where he belongs,” Razoul almost growled. “And Jafar has ordered that you be escorted to your room and remain there under guard.” 

Jasmine frowned. “I will not be sent to my room like an errant child. I wish to speak with my father.”

“The Sultan is not here, princess. He is away on a diplomatic trip to a neighboring kingdom. He is not expected to return for several days yet.”

“Then where is Jafar? I demand to speak with him at once.”

Razoul only shook his head. “Jafar is busy, princess. He’s in charge of affairs here while the Sultan is away, and he too has been gone for days, looking for you. There are many things which require his attention now that he’s back.”

“ _I_ require his attention. Tell him to report to me immediately.” 

Razoul scowled. “Fine, princess. In the meantime, I will do as Jafar ordered and take you to your room.”

Jasmine’s eyes narrowed on him. “And if I do not wish to go?”

“Then I shall be forced to carry you there.” The captain regarded her almost warily. Jasmine could see in his eyes that he well remembered her hitting him over the head with a clay pot. She smiled internally. He had best not ever forget it.

However, she knew that in this case, she was outnumbered and Razoul was far stronger than she. He would certainly prevail if she tried to fight back. Without a backward glance, she marched up the steps of the palace and through the door. She could hear Razoul and his men following behind, but she did not bother waiting for them.

Stepping inside the palace again was like stepping into another world. It was much cooler inside, and sounds were muted. The marble floor was cool and smooth beneath her bare feet, and her footfalls echoed as though from a distance. She strode through halls that were tall and wide enough to accommodate an elephant and wondered when, if ever, they had made her feel so small.

She walked straight to her room without stopping. On the way there she passed servants who actually did a double take upon seeing her. It was not lost on Jasmine how ridiculous she must look striding through the halls as though she owned them, royal guards trailing in her wake, her hair in tangles, her dress ragged, and her feet bare. She knew she looked like nothing more than a beggar putting on airs, but she was determined to act the part of the princess as she once had. It disturbed her how quickly and easily she was able to slip back into it.

When she reached her room, she slammed the door shut behind her without even glancing back at the guards. She leaned against the door, eyes closed, as she listened to Razoul giving orders to two of the men to stand sentry just outside. Then the footsteps faded away, and Jasmine was left alone.

Everything was so _quiet_. She could hear nothing save the breeze gently rustling the curtains. She hadn’t remembered until just now how silent the palace was most of the time. She had become used to living in the streets, among people, where there were always voices or movement or laughter. Here it was silent, and she knew she was alone.

She remembered exactly why she had run away in the first place.

She thought of Aladdin, locked in the dungeon, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She wished Aladdin were here with her, or that she were there with him. She’d much rather be locked in the dungeon with him than alone in this magnificent prison. It wouldn’t be as comfortable, but hey, she was used to roughing it. At least she wouldn’t be lonely.

Aladdin was alone now. Did he wish the same, that she were with him? Or did he never want to see her again? Would he ever be able to forgive her?

She was startled by a knock at the door, just behind her head. She whirled around and opened the door immediately.

She didn’t know who she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t the girl who stood with mouth agape just behind the door, startled by the abrupt opening. Jasmine hadn’t seen her handmaiden Fatima in two years. She recognized her immediately, of course, but she wasn’t sure yet if she was happy to see her.

Fatima stood and gaped at Jasmine as though she’d never seen the like of her before. Jasmine supposed she really hadn’t—her handmaiden had certainly never seen her dressed in rags. However, she stood there staring for long enough that it started to make Jasmine uncomfortable. She glanced at the two guards flanking Fatima, who were watching them out of the corners of their eyes. She sighed and grabbed Fatima’s arm, which elicited a squeak from the girl, and pulled her into the room, shutting the door once again.

When she turned back to Fatima, it was to find that the girl had fallen to her knees and was actually crying. Horrified, Jasmine reached out to touch her shoulder. “Fatima! What’s wrong?”

“W-we thought y-you were d-de-dead, princess,” she choked out. “I’m j-just so g-g-glad you’re n-not—!”

“Fatima, please, there’s no need for this—“

The girl didn’t seem to hear her. Her eyes were instead fixed on her dirty feet. Her gaze traveled over her threadbare dress and up to her snarled, tangled hair. Jasmine thought at first that her looking was to reassure herself that she really was alive, but then she realized that the girl’s gaze was not one of relief, but one of pity.

“Oh princess,” she breathed, reaching out hesitantly to touch Jasmine’s ragged dress. “What _happened_ to you? What did they _do_ to you?” Fresh tears filled Fatima’s eyes, but Jasmine had had quite enough. She did not want Fatima’s pity, especially not for something for which she felt no shame. She stepped back, out of Fatima’s reach.

“Fatima, why are you here?”

Fatima’s brow creased in confusion. “Why, to help you bathe and dress, milady.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. Of course that’s why she was here. That’s what handmaidens did, after all. It’s what Fatima had done for her every day before she’d run away and evidently forgotten everything about palace life.

Jasmine did want a bath—desert travel tended to leave one with sand in every conceivable crevice—but she was used now to bathing by herself. Or with Aladdin. Speaking of which, she had an idea…

She smiled at her handmaiden finally, and the girl smiled back. “Thank you, Fatima. I’m so very glad you’re here…”

♠

Jasmine was bathed and dressed and brushing out her hair by the time Fatima returned from the little “errand” her princess had sent her to do. Jasmine noticed that she looked slightly taken aback to see that the princess had evidently taken care of her toilette by herself. She allowed herself a bit of a smug smile that she really had no right to. It really shouldn’t be an accomplishment that she can take care of bathing and dressing herself, but in this place it was.

“Did you find out anything?” she asked the girl.

“Yes, milady,” Fatima said as she scurried to her side. “The steward is such an awful gossip, and he was proud of having the latest news, straight from the captain of the guard himself.”

Jasmine leaned forward. If it came from Razoul, the news was probably accurate. “Well?”

Her worry must have shown on her face, because Fatima smiled a bit at her. “Do not worry, princess; it’s good news.”

Jasmine forced herself to relax and nodded for the girl to continue.

Fatima smiled wider. “The man you asked after, Aladdin, is secure in the dungeon, but he won’t be much longer.”

Jasmine breathed a sigh of relief. “They’re letting him go.”

“Oh no, princess. Rest assured, he will pay for kidnapping you, and for his other crimes. Jafar has sentenced him to death by beheading.”

Jasmine’s breath froze in her throat. She felt like her chest was suddenly being squeezed so tightly she could not draw breath. She could only force a whisper of sound past her lips. “ _What?_ ”

Fatima sensed her distress, but did not understand it. She laid a gentle hand on Jasmine’s shoulder. “He is to be executed at sunset, milady.”

Sunset. Jasmine’s eyes found the balcony.

_But the sun was setting right now._

Jasmine was running before she had even registered that she had jumped up. She raced for the door to her bedroom and flung it open, rushing through and running right smack into the guard standing just outside. Both the guard and Jasmine were bowled over by the force with which she had slammed into him. Her head cracked against the marble floor and stars burst behind her eyes.

She did not stop, despite the fact that the world was spinning. She staggered to her feet, but stumbled and would have fallen again, only Fatima was there suddenly, helping her up. “Princess! Are you hurt?”

She clung to Fatima, using her to steady herself. She looked over the girl’s shoulder and saw the guard she had knocked down still groaning on the floor. The second guard, though, was heading for her.

Jasmine did not stop to think. She shoved Fatima as hard as she could into the oncoming guard. Fatima broke off her frantic babbling and shrieked as she crashed into the man, bringing them both tumbling to the floor.

Jasmine did not wait to see what they would do next. She turned and ran down the hall as hard as she could.

The first corner she tried to turn almost ended in disaster. The slippers she wore now had no traction at all, and sent her careening into the opposite wall. She kicked the slippers off and continued running barefoot, racing heedless through the halls. The servants she passed stared, but she barely noticed them. One man tried to stop her, but she tripped him with a neat side-sweep of her leg that she had picked up years ago from Aladdin.

_Aladdin!_

She had to get there in time; she just had to. She could not fail. She couldn’t.

Her head pounded and her vision swam. Her breath came short and her heart felt as though it would break through her chest with how hard it was beating. Her burning legs moved and her feet pounded to a rhythm she chanted in her head: _Aladdin, Aladdin, Aladdin…_

She burst into the grounds and made for the small courtyard where she knew the sultan’s prisoners were taken to be executed, though she had never been there herself. Stones on the path roughed her feet but she did not slow. The sun was dipping below the horizon. She had to hurry.

She flew into the courtyard and pulled up short, looking around, desperately searching the crowd of guards for a sign of Aladdin. There was Jafar, and Razoul—

—And the headsman. He lifted a giant ax high above his head, raising it over the man kneeling bent over the rust-colored block.

Jasmine screamed—or at least she thought she did, she couldn’t be sure over the ringing in her ears—but it made no difference. The axe came down in a shining arc with lethal force upon the man she loved. Then the headsman raised the axe again, and the last ray of dying sunlight reflected off it in a red glow.

Now, as Jasmine watched blood seeping into the block, staining it afresh, she was frozen. She could not move or she knew she would fly apart into a million pieces. This could not be real. It could not.

But it was, and Jasmine started when she felt a cool touch on her shoulder.

“I am _exceedingly_ sorry you had to witness this, princess,” she heard Jafar say in her ear.

The moment shattered. A sob wrenched itself from her throat as she jerked away from Jafar. She started for the block, but Razoul was there to stop her. Rage took over her then, and she fought against him tooth and nail. No one, least of all Razoul, was going to keep her away from him.

But Razoul was much bigger and stronger than her, and she was hampered by her own anger and sorrow. Great, choking sobs heaved from her chest, and no matter what she did, Razoul’s iron grip did not falter. She heard Jafar speaking, but she did not even care to make out the words.

A long-fingered hand shoved a sachet into her face. It smelled foul, cloying and far too sweet. It made her head swim. She tried to turn away from it, but something was holding her head still. Her vision went black, and she knew no more.


	19. Knave of Spades

Jasmine woke in darkness, disoriented. She wasn’t sure at first where she was, but she knew she wasn’t in the tent. The space was too open…

She tried to look around and moaned when a sharp pain shot through her neck and the back of her head. She raised her hand and gingerly felt the painful area. Her fingers found a swollen lump on the back of her head. She slowly realized that she must have got it when she fell. Yes, she had been running and then…

_Oh, Aladdin…_

Jasmine broke into fresh tears as the last thing she remembered came back to her. She curled in on herself, sobbing. The pain in her head grew steadily worse, throbbing with every gasping breath, but it couldn’t even come close to the pain in her heart.

He was gone.

On the edge of her awareness, she heard something like a low growl, but she paid it no mind, too lost in grief to care. It wasn’t until the mattress she lay on dipped under the weight of something climbing in bed with her did she force her eyes open. She couldn’t see much in the darkness except a large, looming black shape. A cool, dry nose nudged her shoulder. She reached out and felt fur.

“Rajah?” she whispered. The tiger moaned and stretched out next to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his soft fur. Rajah licked her ear, trying to comfort her. Jasmine didn’t feel she deserved to be comforted, but she clung to the tiger anyway.

“It’s all my fault, Rajah,” she whispered brokenly through her tears. “He didn’t even know my name.”

♠

When he received word that his daughter had been found, the Sultan had immediately cut short his visit and returned to Agrabah. It was still a week, however, before he arrived in the city. Jasmine was sure she had never experienced a longer week.

Her grief was not dulled with the passing of days. She did nothing with herself all day but pace around her room or the gardens, Rajah padding along beside her. She didn’t really care where she went, so long as she was moving. She spoke very little. She knew the servants looked at her askance and whispered behind her back, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She overheard a page one day say that watching her was like seeing a ghost haunting the palace. She thought that description rather apt. She thought that what she was feeling now must be how ghosts feel—not really a part of this place but bound to it, wanting to move on but being unable.

Today, however, she waited in her room, fisting her hands in Rajah’s fur to calm herself. She was nervous. Her father was arriving home today, and she hadn’t seen him in nearly two years. She didn’t know what to expect. Was he disappointed? Would he be angry? Would he yell at her? He never had before, though she probably deserved it this time. She deserved worse than yelling, really.

She finally laid her head down on Rajah’s back and tried to relax. She was grateful the tiger was with her. He was a loyal friend. She could tell him anything, or nothing, and he would still be there for her.

She hadn’t realized that she’d fallen asleep until the sound of horns woke her, heralding the return of the Sultan. She had been sleeping a lot lately. Sometimes she dreamed of Aladdin. They were mostly sweet and happy dreams, but waking from them left her colder and sadder than before.

This time she had dreamed of him helping her build a fire to cook with. She knew right away that it was a dream because the fire gave off no heat, but she wanted it to last anyway.

She stretched and wondered if she should go down to the throne room to receive her father. She decided against it. Jafar would be there, and she did not wish to see him. She had been avoiding him all week. As far as she was concerned, if she never saw him again, it would be too soon.

She did not have to wait for long. There was a knock on her door not even half an hour after the horns had sounded. She stood, keeping one hand on Rajah for support.

She took a deep breath and called, “Come.”

The door swung open and there stood her father. 

He stared at her. She stared right back at him.

She tried to catalogue the emotions on her father’s face. She had once been able to do that with ease, but two years apart had apparently robbed her of that ability. Or perhaps she was just second-guessing herself now when she hadn’t before. His face looked older than she remembered, as though he had aged a decade even though it had been only two years. There were more lines on his forehead, and bags had developed under his eyes. It was still him though—Jasmine would know that face anywhere.

“Jasmine?” Her father whispered her name, as though he still couldn’t quite believe it was her in front of him. Jasmine wondered what changes he saw in her face. She was sure she was just as changed as he was, perhaps more.

“Father,” she said. The word barely made it out, her throat was so tight with emotion.

Her father took a hesitant step forward, then another. Jasmine’s heart stuttered.

“Jasmine…it’s really you…you’re really here…” Jasmine saw the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yes, Father,” she said in a voice that could not rise above a whisper.

His tears spilled over into his beard as he said, “You’ve come home.”

He opened his arms to her and she fell into them, weeping. “I missed you, Father,” she said as he held her.

He reached up to dry her tears from her cheeks. “I missed you too, my child.” His voice trembled. “More than I can say.”

Jasmine wrapped her arms around her father and buried her face in his shoulder. He petted her hair like he had when she was a child. “Please promise me, my dear,” he said, voice tight with repressed tears, “that you won’t leave me again.”

“I promise, Father.”

♠

Two days passed during which she spent much of her time in her father’s presence. Being with him again eased her melancholy, though it did not dispel it entirely. Sometimes they talked, but never about what had happened to her in the last two years. They spoke only of the goings-on in Agrabah, or else they reminisced on times long past, when she was a child. They never talked about the more recent past.

A part of her was surprised that her father didn’t push her to tell him about what had happened to her. He could clearly see that the last two years had changed her, and she could see that he was curious. But maybe he knew that she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, because he never asked about it or brought it up. Maybe he was just as apprehensive to hear what had happened as she was to tell it. She knew that eventually she would tell him, but for now, she just wanted to be close to him again.

They did not talk about her past, but Jasmine should have known that it would not prevent them from talking about her future.

Her father came to see her in her room one morning, and he looked nervous. “Jasmine, my dear, I must speak to you of something—rather important, actually.”

“Yes, Father, what is it?” She smiled at him in encouragement, though she knew her smile did not quite reach her eyes. Her smiles never did these days, rare as they were.

Her father still hesitated before continuing. “Now, I know you don’t wish to speak of it. I know it’s part of the reason you—we—Well, it’s not something I want to talk about either, really, but I feel we must—That is to say, we _should_ —“

“Father, slow down. Please, say what you wish to say.” She smiled again, and this time it was both fonder and more distant. Her father’s babbling was so typical of him, and she had missed it, but she wasn’t sure she liked the direction he was heading.

The Sultan swallowed. “My dear, we must speak of—your marriage.”

Jasmine was at once relieved and worried—relieved that he wasn’t going to ask about the last two years, but worried by this new topic she had not anticipated. “My—marriage?” she prodded, hoping he would explain.

“Yes, dear child, your marriage.” Her father still looked sad and uncomfortable. He must have seen Jasmine’s hesitation, because he continued, “I know you probably don’t want to discuss it. You certainly didn’t when last I saw you anyway…” He trailed off, then cleared his throat and continued. “I don’t like pushing you Jasmine, but…”

Jasmine tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. “The law,” she finished for him.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, yes, but the real reason—It’s more than the law, Jasmine.” He sighed heavily. “Perhaps you’ve noticed that I’m not as young as I used to be,” he said, turning a wry smile her way. Jasmine nodded, but didn’t smile back. The Sultan sighed again. “When I die, you cannot inherit what is mine. Long tradition and the laws of the land forbid it. But if you were to marry… I need not worry about your future. I can name your husband as my heir, and you will be provided for.”

Jasmine looked down at her hands. This was the same argument he had used on her two years ago. She hadn’t listened to it then. She could scarcely bear to listen to it now. Could she really think of marriage now, so soon after…after losing so much?

She knew though, that her father was mostly unaware of all that had occurred in the past two years; he could hardly be expected to know that now was not a good time to discuss marriage. So Jasmine simply nodded, and allowed him to continue.

“I thought perhaps that you would be more comfortable marrying someone you already know and are familiar with,” the Sultan said, clearly relieved that she was hearing him out instead of storming off. “And when you first disappeared, I offered a reward for your return. I made it so that whomever found you would have your hand in marriage.”

Jasmine stiffened. He couldn’t possibly mean—

“And, well, Jafar _is_ the man who found you, so I thought—“

“No.”

“—that you could—What was that, my dear?”

“No. I will not marry Jafar.” _I will take my own life before I marry that evil man,_ she thought, but did not say aloud.

Her father’s face fell. “Jasmine, we’ve been over this again and again. You _must_ marry someone. Jafar is my Royal Vizier, and knows everything about running the sultanate. He would make a fine choice.”

Jasmine could see that her father believed that her resistance was the same as it had been before, due to childish whims and petulance. Her reasons for refusing Jafar, however, were far more personal, and not something she felt she could explain to her father at this time. But how to make him see? She needed to convince him or he would insist and marry her to that awful man whether she liked it or no.

It came to Jasmine in a flash what she needed to do. She would have to try compromise.

She stood, and her father stopped talking and watched her almost warily, as though he feared she would run out on him right then as she had so many times before.

“Father, I agree,” Jasmine said, and suddenly found herself in a state of calm. It was almost too easy to say the words. “I must marry. But I will marry a prince as the law demands.” The Sultan looked as though he might interject, but she held up her hand to stop him. She knew what he was worried about, and she had a solution for that as well. “To show that I mean what I say, I shall fulfill the law I ran from. I shall chose the one I marry before my next birthday.”

The Sultan did not look too convinced. He shook his head. “That is less than two months away. And if you do not find a suitable husband by then?”

“I will find one, Father.”

The Sultan gave her a searching look. “If you do not choose a husband by your next birthday, then you shall wed Jafar.” He did not phrase it as a question.

Jasmine stiffened again. She shouldn’t have been surprised. He was testing her, trying to see if she was serious about finding a husband by her next birthday or just putting him off. Compromise—this would have to be part of the deal. She finally nodded. “Yes, Father,” she said, though the words almost stuck in her throat.

The Sultan’s tensed shoulders relaxed visibly, and Jasmine was relieved to see a soft smile on his face. “Thank you, my daughter, for being…reasonable about this. I’m sure you’ll make a good choice.”

Jasmine nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Now my dear, won’t you accompany me to the throne room? I had hoped you would help me attend to some petitioners today.”

Jasmine didn’t feel up to holding court today, not after this. “I’m sorry, Father, but I have much to think about. I only have less than two months to find a husband, after all.”

“Yes, yes, of course, my dear. I’m sure you need time. I will see you at dinner then.”

“All right, Father. I’ll see you then.”

The Sultan gave her one last smile, then turned and left the room. Once he was gone, Jasmine collapsed on her chaise lounge.

Marriage. She just couldn’t get away from it, could she? She ran away from home and traveled the harshest deserts in the world only to end up right back where she started.

When she had been faced with this proposition two years ago, she had… Well, she’d acted childishly. Maybe it was because she had been only a child at the time, just fifteen years old, but the fact is that she had behaved like a spoiled brat—ignoring the men that came to see her, refusing to listen, even setting Rajah on some of them.

She didn’t regret running away though. Maybe that had been an immature response as well, but she couldn’t regret it. Running away had forced her to grow in so many ways. She had learned so much outside the palace, and she felt she was the better for it.

Most of all, she’d had to run away to meet Aladdin. If it weren’t for him, she was sure she’d never have known love of the kind that a man and a woman can share.

She felt a lump rising in her throat, as it always did when she thought of him now. Thinking of marriage was a painful reminder that Aladdin had asked her to marry him, just days before they’d been caught. He had asked, and she had rejected him.

Why had she done that? She knew she’d had reasons for refusing—she even remembered what they were, but they just seemed so…inconsequential to her now. She’d loved him, and he’d loved her. Isn’t that what really mattered in the end? She’d run away from home to avoid marrying a man she didn’t love and who didn’t love her. Then, when she’d had the chance to marry for love, she’d run away again.

How could she even think of marriage now? Did she reject Aladdin and hurt him so badly so that she could just turn around and marry a total stranger? It wasn’t fair to him or his memory for her to do that. 

Of course, there were a lot of things she’d done to Aladdin that hadn’t been fair. She’d been a great burden on him, helpless and vulnerable as she was. Her presence had brought the guards down on his head countless times. She’d caused him to abandon his home and embark on a journey that had nearly killed them both more than once. She’d lied to him and concealed her true identity for years. And when he’d finally asked her for something he wanted, the chance to bind his life to hers, she’d refused him.

Finally, the men who had been looking for her had found them both, and it had cost him his very life.

Jasmine felt tears slip down her cheeks. What was _wrong_ with her? How could she have done all this to the man she loved? Would that she could see him one last time, if only to beg his forgiveness for everything she’d put him through…

But it was too late for that now. Aladdin was _dead_. It didn’t matter how many times she whispered her confessions to the air, he couldn’t hear her anymore. She would never be forgiven for her sins. She didn’t deserve it anyway. She would have to learn to live with her guilt.

She swiped the tears roughly from her face. She couldn’t feel sorry for herself any more. It was time to face the responsibilities she’d avoided for so long. Aladdin was gone, but her father was here, and she owed him just as much, if not more. She had the chance to make it up to him, at least. And though she did not wish to think on such a painful subject, marriage was the first step to doing this.

Though her father had suggested Jafar, she just couldn’t marry him. In all seriousness, she would rather die than marry the man responsible for killing Aladdin. But her father ought to be just as happy with a prince. She needn’t marry Jafar.

She would just have to make sure she found a husband—any husband—before her birthday.

What could be so hard about that?


	20. Ace of Diamonds

“Hey, kid! _Pssst_ , kid, wake up!”

The boy only groaned and tried to turn his head away from the sound. His neck ached. He supposed that’s what he got for sleeping on a cold, stone floor.

“C’mon, kid, rise and shine!”

He couldn’t go back to sleep, not with all that racket. Whoever was calling him had a really annoying voice. He sighed and opened his eyes.

“Finally! I was startin’ to think you were dead.”

Blinking, he rubbed a hand over his face, which caused the chains on his wrists to clank. He sat up and looked about, but couldn’t see where the voice was coming from at first. The cell appeared to be just as empty as usual. Was he hearing things? 

“Over here, kid.”

He turned to the door and finally saw an unusual sight. There was a bright red parrot perched on the ledge just outside the bars of the small opening in the door. He blinked again. What was going on?

“What’s’a matter, kid, never seen a talking parrot before?” Did that parrot actually just _leer_ at him? He was pretty sure he’d never seen an expression quite like that on the face of any bird before. But hey, the parrot was apparently _talking_ to him as well, so this obviously wasn’t your average avian. He shook his head, partly to indicate his negative answer to the parrot’s question, and partly to try to clear it and make sure he wasn’t hallucinating this.

“What’s your name, kid?” the parrot asked.

“Aladdin,” he answered automatically.

“Whatcha in for, Aladdin?”

Aladdin looked around and took in the dank, dirty walls of the cell, the heavy iron chains that bound him hand and foot, and the rank, rotten smell that permeated everything. No, he wasn’t hallucinating, talking birds notwithstanding. He was still in the dungeon.

He finally shrugged and glanced back at the bird. “Kidnapping the princess, I guess.” He tamped down the emotion that tried to rise up in his chest when he said that word.

“You _guess?_ What, you mean you don’t know?”

He shrugged again. “Maybe thievery. Maybe both. I’m wanted for a lot of things in this town.”

“You must be if you can’t even decide which one of them landed you in here.”

“Who are you?” Aladdin asked, trying to change the subject.

“The name’s Iago. Just another palace pet, but it’s not a bad life. Only it gets boring every so often.”

“Does it.” Aladdin didn’t really want to talk about palace life either. Then again, he didn’t much feel like talking about anything at all lately.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m down here. The criminals have much more interesting stories to tell than gossiping kitchen maids.”

“Huh.”

“So what’s yours?”

“Huh?”

Aladdin could’ve sworn the parrot actually rolled its eyes. “What’s your _story_ , kid? Must have ended up down here somehow.”

Aladdin thought about ignoring the question, but it didn’t sound like the parrot was going to give up pestering him anytime soon. He’d probably make a nuisance of himself for a good long time before giving up and leaving Aladdin alone. Aladdin was sure he could wait the bird out though.

Suddenly a thought struck him. This parrot was the first creature, human or otherwise, to visit him in his cell besides the guard that brought his food once a day, and the guard never spoke, regardless of whatever Aladdin did or said to get him to do so. It had been several days since he’d been brought in, if not weeks, and he’d had no contact from the outside world. He didn’t know what was going to happen to him. Not that there were many options—it was probably either execution or rotting in this cell for the rest of his life—but he didn’t want to sit here in uncertainty anymore. The parrot seemed to like talking, so maybe he could work that to his advantage and get it to tell him what the Sultan planned to do with him.

He looked to the door. The parrot—Iago—was still waiting there. He took a deep breath.

“I’m in here because I kidnapped the princess.”

The parrot ruffled its feathers. “Yeah, you said that already. That where she’s been for the last two years, with you?”

Aladdin closed his eyes and swallowed hard, pushing the lump out of his throat. “Yeah.”

The bird whistled, long and low. “That takes guts, kid. Why’d you go and kidnap a princess and then not even ask for a ransom?”

Aladdin looked at the floor and fisted his hands in the chains that bound them. “Well, I didn’t actually know she was a princess at the time.”

“If you didn’t know she was a princess, why’d you kidnap her?”

“She—she was alone and she needed help. She—we needed to get out of the city, and I wanted to help her.”

“Soooo you absconded with her royal highness thinkin’, what, you’d set up house together?”

Aladdin couldn’t trust himself to speak. He only shrugged, looking away, but it was admission enough. Iago laughed so hard he nearly fell off his perch and had to wrap a wing around the bars to steady himself. Aladdin glared at him until his cackling subsided into the occasional high-pitched giggle.

“Boy, she sure did a number on you!” Iago giggled again. “A princess—with a street rat! That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard!” The bird broke into laughter again, and Aladdin glowered. It’s not like he could defend himself. The bird was right; it sounded just as ridiculous to Aladdin. It had always been stupid—he’d been an idiot to think that a girl like her would give up all she had to be with someone like him. But he didn’t need to hear it from a talking parrot.

“Yeah, right, ha ha, laugh all you want, bird-brain. I still had her right up until we got caught.”

Iago wiped tears from his eyes with a wingtip. “Don’t make me laugh again, kid, I think I’m gonna bust a gut. You had her? More like she had you—right where she wanted, serving her every whim.”

Aladdin shook his head. His doubts clamored in his head, but he forced himself to say, “It was more than that.”

Iago grinned nastily at him. Aladdin decided he really hated this bird. “Oh really? Well, if you were so special to her, what are you still doin’ down here? Also, why is she all set to get married to someone else?”

Aladdin had been about to make up an excuse he didn’t really believe for the first question, when the second question sank in. “She probably—what?”

“Oh yeah, you probably haven’t heard the news, what with languishing in a cell lately. She’s gettin’ married to a prince at the end of next month. The royal steward is fit to be tied with all the preparations.”

Aladdin tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach and failed utterly. “What prince?”

Iago snorted. “Don’t know, and I don’t much care. They’re all the same, princes are. Just swaggering peacocks with a title. She hasn’t even picked out the one she’s gonna marry yet even though the date’s set, that’s how little it matters.”

It didn’t seem like a little matter to Aladdin. This was why she ran away in the first place, wasn’t it? Was she being forced into this? He was actually concerned for her despite himself.

“Is the Sultan making her do this?”

“Nope, not this time. He’s learned his lesson from the last time he tried to force her to get married. He’s letting the shrew call the shots this go around.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure. It was definitely _her_ idea to marry a prince. She even sent gilded letters to a bunch of them written in her own hand, inviting them to try to win her over.” Iago snorted again. “I wonder how many will come. She’s already rejected just about every prince around, and princes have their pride.”

Aladdin felt cold, and he knew that it was for reasons other than the damp stone floor of his cell. That didn’t mean he wanted to examine those reasons. But Iago, apparently, did.

“What’s’a matter, kid? Don’t like hearin’ about your princess?”

“It’s Aladdin,” he replied hotly. “And she’s not my princess,” he muttered low enough he thought Iago couldn’t hear him.

Iago paused and eyed him in a way Aladdin didn’t like. “Boy, you’ve really fallen hard for her, haven’t you?”

Aladdin didn’t reply. He didn’t even look at the bird, but that was answer enough for Iago.

“Well,” said the bird, sneering, “I’m sure that’ll come as a real comfort to you when the Sultan executes you for treason.” 

Aladdin finally leapt for the door, reaching for the parrot through the bars, but Iago had already taken wing. Aladdin watched as the bird’s red plumage disappeared down the dark corridor, leaving its mocking laughter behind it.

♦

If Jafar were being totally honest (which he never was), he would admit that things were not going precisely according to plan.

Oh, that’s not to say that some parts of the plan weren’t proceeding excellently. When he’d arranged to have some common criminal beheaded in place of Aladdin, he had never expected that the princess herself would catch the tail end of the act, but it was definitely a bonus. She had bought it completely, and had made such a scene that no one even looked twice at the body. Her presence had distracted everyone there, especially Razoul, so much that all the ‘eyewitnesses’ to Aladdin’s death never bothered to question the fact that the condemned man was maybe just a hair shorter, his skin a bit darker, than Aladdin was known to be. His face, though, was a dead ringer for Aladdin—that Jafar had made sure of. Now everyone believed Aladdin to be dead, and Jafar was the only one who really knew the truth. The tongue-less prison guard who brought Aladdin food didn’t know who he really was, and would hardly be in a position to tell anyone even if he did.

Though he now had the Diamond in the Rough, Jafar had been forced to delay his plans for obtaining the lamp until the Sultan had returned, then delay some more while the Sultan spent most of his time trying to reconnect with his daughter. Someone had to run the sultanate in the meantime, and Jafar was the clear choice for the job.

Really, he had been more than happy to wait as long as he knew the Sultan was going to honor his decree and grant him the princess’s hand in marriage. Not that he really wanted to marry the shrew, but it would mean that he would be next in line to the throne. If he had an actual right to that power, he wouldn’t need to waste one of his wishes on it when he finally got his hands on the lamp. And really, it wouldn’t be all that bad to have her on his arm. For all her insubordination, she did not lack in beauty, and obedience could be taught.

That plan, however, had been circumvented by the princess herself. She’d somehow managed to get the Sultan to change his mind about the marriage and instead agree to allow her to marry a prince. Jafar was not happy at all with this development, but it was hardly an insurmountable obstacle. He knew that the princess only had until her birthday to find a suitable husband. After that, she would have to marry him. All Jafar had to do was make sure she didn’t find a husband, which wouldn’t be difficult. The princess herself, shrew that she was, would likely do most of his work for him.

This wrench in his plans, though relatively minor, had caused him to speed up his timeframe for obtaining the lamp. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little extra power in his corner in case the princess proved difficult. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. So he had turned his attention back to the boy in recent days.

For the last several days, Jafar had been content to keep his Diamond locked up safe and secret in his vault. He’d let the boy stew and worry for a while, then he’d sent Iago, that malicious little fowl, to talk to the boy and sow the seeds of doubt and distrust for the princess in his mind. He couldn’t risk Aladdin having some remaining loyalty to her that might cause him to go against Jafar’s plans. No, Aladdin needed to believe that the princess did not care for him, that she had only been using him, and, most importantly, that no help would be coming from her.

It was essential to the plan that the boy lose hope of making it out of this alive, otherwise how would Jafar get the boy to take the risk of following him? Aladdin surely did not trust him; Jafar was after all solely responsible for putting him in prison, and the boy was no fool.

Now, though, the trap had been set. It was time to spring it.

Jafar arrived at the door of the dungeon well after night had fallen. The mute keeper of the keys met him there, holding a cage covered with a cloth and his enormous key ring. Together they traversed the warren of corridors that made up the ancient dungeon, going ever deeper into the dark. The keeper’s keys jingled with every step, but Jafar glided along almost silently. He did not speak to the man beside him. He had already given his instructions to the keeper, and the keeper never needed to hear instructions twice. Perhaps losing his tongue had had the effect of making the man listen all the more carefully. Whatever the reason, Jafar appreciated not having to repeat himself or engage in idle chatter.

The keeper finally stopped at a door, and Jafar glanced inside through the bars set into the wood. Pale moonlight entered from a small, barred culvert set high in the wall, which allowed him to see the boy Aladdin curled up asleep on the stone floor of the cell. Jafar waited as the keeper set the cage down to fumble with his heavy key ring. Finding the one he wanted at last, the man inserted the key into the door’s lock and turned. 

The clang the lock made as the bolt slid back echoed off the stone walls, amplifying the sound. Jafar watched as Aladdin jerked awake and sat up, blinking the weariness from his eyes and regarding the opening door with suspicion.

Jafar hung back in the shadows of the hall as the burly keeper entered the cell. The man seized the boy’s arm, hoisted him to his feet, and dragged him to the wall. Aladdin attempted to struggle at first, but he soon stopped. He must have realized that it was futile with the guard being much stronger than him and him hampered by the fetters on his wrists and ankles.

The keeper pushed the boy up against the wall and brought his hands up above his head, where he shackled them in a bracket mounted on the wall, then did the same with his feet. The keeper didn’t bother to remove the chains that already bound him. With the boy now fully restrained, the man retreated from the cell, glancing at Jafar as he did. Jafar nodded once to him, and the keeper, having done his part, disappeared back down the long, winding corridors. Jafar waited until the jingling of keys had faded into the distance before he picked up the cage and entered the cell.

Aladdin’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw Jafar, then narrowed in anger as his hands clenched in useless fists. Jafar was glad he’d had the foresight to restrain the boy.

He walked forward until he stood in front of Aladdin, and for a moment he simply allowed himself to look at the boy. This was the first opportunity he’d had to really see him up close, and he was, quite frankly, curious.

One would never guess from this boy’s appearance that he was the one person in all the land who could safely enter the Cave of Wonders. His hair and beard were a scruffy mess and his clothes were little more than rags. He wore only a tattered vest and patched pants; his feet were bare and filthy. But of course, he hadn’t had an opportunity to bathe in weeks. Beneath the grime and rags, though, Jafar could see that the boy was a rather handsome one. His features were regular and symmetrical, and his body was slender but strong. Jafar’s gaze lingered on the toned muscles of the boy’s chest and stomach before traveling up to meet his eyes.

“Do you know who I am, boy?” Jafar asked, by way of introduction.

The boy bared his teeth. “You’re Jafar.”

“That is my name, yes. I am the Royal Vizier to the Sultan of Agrabah.” Jafar paused, but he could see by the way Aladdin’s glare did not waver that he cared not one whit for Jafar’s title or accomplishments. To this boy, Jafar would only ever be the man who had put an end to his freedom and happiness.

“Well, you may not have heard of me before, but I have heard quite a bit about you, especially these last weeks.” Jafar continued. “For someone who seems so insignificant, you’ve certainly had the palace in an uproar.”

The boy did not answer, nor did he let up glowering at Jafar. Jafar almost smiled, but managed to keep a straight face.

“Lately the talk has been of what your fate shall be,” Jafar said. “What to do with the thief who stole away the princess?” Jafar shook his head in mock disapproval. “The Sultan, the captain of the guard, and almost everyone else is in favor of your immediate execution, with one notable exception.” Here he paused, and watched Aladdin’s face closely for a reaction. “The princess did not wish you put to death.”

Aladdin blinked, and his glare lost some of its heat. Jafar allowed a slight grin to cross his face. “The princess has always been softhearted. She begged her father to spare you, and at last the old man relented. He has decreed that you shall be sentenced to a life in prison here, in the dungeon.

Jafar had to hand it to the boy—he had courage. He took the news with his head held high at least, though he had to take a deep breath to steady himself before he was able to speak.

“What does the princess think of this?”

Jafar was only mildly surprised that the first question he’d asked had been about her. “The princess has accepted her father’s merciful decree.”

“Merciful…” the boy muttered and shook his head. “So it is mercy that condemns me to rot my life away in this cell, is it?” His voice was full of bitterness.

“To the Sultan’s view, yes,” Jafar responded. “You are a lifelong thief and vagabond who kidnapped his only daughter and despoiled her for nearly two years. These are all crimes deserving of beheading.”

“I did nothing to her that she did not want me to do.”

“I would not say that to the Sultan if I were you.”

“If I’m to remain here for the rest of my life, then there’s no danger of that happening.”

“Oh, don’t be so glum.” Jafar smiled. “It’s better this way.”

“ _Better?_ Hah!” Aladdin let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Better to waste away in this cell for years, seeing only the same four walls for the rest of my life, however long it may be? I’d _welcome_ death.”

“I’m glad to hear that, boy, because in that case, today’s your lucky day.”

Aladdin’s jaw clenched. “What, are you going to kill me?” Jafar almost had to admire how defiant he sounded, unable to move and helpless to defend himself as he was.

“Oh no, my boy. I’m going to offer you a way out.”

There was silence as Aladdin eyed Jafar with no small amount of suspicion. Finally he said, “I’m listening.”

Jafar smiled and continued. “There is a hidden cave not far from here that contains a treasure that would exceed your wildest imaginings. By long searching, I have discovered the entrance to this cave, and I alone know its whereabouts and how to open it. If you were to aid me in obtaining some of this treasure, I would help you escape from this place and let you go. And a portion of the treasure would be yours, of course.”

Aladdin’s eyes widened in shock, but he quickly narrowed them at Jafar once again. “What do you need me for, if you already know everything about it?”

“I need a young pair of legs and a strong back to go in after it. I’m not as able-bodied as I once was. And there is no telling exactly what kind of danger may be lurking inside that cave.”

“So get one of the guards—”

“Oh _please_. As if any guard is smart enough to do the job properly. Blundering idiots, all of them! No, I need someone clever and skilled, not one of those brainless buffoons. I need a thief.”

Aladdin scoffed. “And you think _I’m_ the man for the job?” He shook his head.

“I do,” Jafar said, staring the boy down. “I must confess, my boy, I still don’t know how you managed to evade me for so long. I’ve been looking for you and the princess for nearly two years, you know. And not to brag, but I’m not exactly easy to fool.”

Aladdin was silent for a while before speaking. “You let me live, you set me free, you make me rich. So far I don’t see a downside to this. _If_ you keep your word.” Aladdin glared at Jafar, suspicion clearly unabated.

“Ah, still don’t trust me, boy? I’m wounded,” Jafar sighed with mock sadness and placed his hand on his heart. “But I suppose you have reason. That’s why I brought you this, as a show of good faith.” Jafar indicated the cage that had been sitting behind him, forgotten, during the conversation. He now strode over to it and lifted the cover from the bars.

“Abu!” Aladdin’s face lit up in surprised joy. Upon hearing its name from the lips of its master, the scrawny monkey shrieked and rattled the bars of its cage.

“I thought you might be glad to see him,” Jafar mused as he watched the boy lean out toward the monkey as far as his restraints would allow. “He’s yours now, whatever you may decide. He can keep you company here in your cell or out there in the world, wherever you choose to go with the riches you will obtain from the cave. So what will it be, boy?”

Aladdin looked back at Jafar and met his eyes with his own determined gaze as he answered, “I’ll do it.”

Jafar smiled his widest smile yet. “Excellent choice, my boy.”

♦

_“Who disturbs my slumber?”_

The guardian of the Cave of Wonders was just as loud and intimidating as Jafar remembered. He found that he was glad he’d dismounted, as the roaring voice caused his horse to rear in fright. Jafar wrenched the animal’s head back down and held tight to the reins as he watched the boy, who had approached and was standing beneath the maw of the giant tiger head.

“Uh, it is I, Aladdin.” The boy’s voice sounded so small after the booming roar of the tiger.

The guardian appeared to consider him for a moment. _“You are the Diamond in the Rough. You may enter. Touch nothing but the lamp.”_

The boy hesitated, glancing back at Jafar. It was clear that the guardian’s words had caught him off guard.

“Go on, boy!” Jafar shouted. “But remember: first fetch me the lamp! And then you shall have your reward.”

Jafar watched as the boy squared his shoulders and carefully stepped over the tiger’s teeth into the mouth of the cave. Jafar felt a sense of something like triumph as he saw the boy disappear down the tiger’s throat, as though it had swallowed him whole. 

This was it. Jafar was at the home stretch now, and all he had left to do was wait and pray that the boy would come through. He almost wished he could follow Aladdin in, but he knew that the guardian would not allow it. The guardian itself had gone still and silent, waiting with mouth and eyes open.

The wind gusted, blowing sand. The hours passed. The moon crossed the sky and the stars remained as still and bright as ever. The horse nickered and stamped in impatience from standing so long. Jafar waited, not even pacing, just watching the cave for any sign…any sign at all.

Finally, something happened. The guardian _roared_ , so loudly that the horse would absolutely not be held and ran off, screaming in fear. The wind reached a gale and caught at Jafar’s robes, whipping them back, pushing him away from the cave.

Something had gone wrong.

Heart in his throat, Jafar pushed through the wind, sand stinging his face, toward the maw of the guardian, which was still emitting ear-splitting roars. He pulled himself up to the very teeth of the beast and looked down, terrified for what he might see.

Aladdin was hanging above a fiery abyss from the ruined remains of the stair, trying with all his might to keep his grip though the cave shook around him.

“Help me out!” he called to Jafar, who heard him as though from a distance as the wind whipped his words away.

“Throw me the lamp!” Jafar screamed. He had not come this far only to fail now.

“I can’t hold on! Give me your hand!”

“First give me the lamp!” The boy met his eyes, and for a moment, Jafar thought that he wouldn’t do it, that he would let himself fall and be lost forever. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dingy, metal thing that gleamed dully in the red light from below. Jafar reached for it, reached—and finally felt it in his hand.

“Yeeees! At laaaaast!” Jafar could not withhold the cry of victory that rose up in his breast. He laughed maniacally—he could almost _feel_ the power under his fingers, like heat, as though the lamp were lit. Triumph and immense satisfaction swept over him as he placed the precious lamp carefully in his pocket. 

Then he looked down and saw the monkey trying in vain to help its master crawl from the pit, and he laughed once again in almost gleeful abandon. He kicked the little creature and sent it flying, then knelt and seized the boy’s wrist in an iron grip. He wrenched the boy’s hold from the rock more easily than he had expected, but perhaps that was because the fool thought Jafar was going to help him. It would be his last mistake.

The boy looked up at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing?!”

“Giving you your reward!” Jafar smiled down at his victim as his other hand wrapped around the hilt of his dagger. “Your eternal reward…” He raised the dagger above his head, poised to bring it down upon the boy’s chest to plunge into his heart, and he finally saw fear in Aladdin’s eyes. Jafar’s smile turned feral.

Pain exploded in the hand that held the dagger so suddenly and unexpectedly that Jafar screamed. His grip slackened for only an instant, but it was enough. He felt the boy slip from his grasp and heard his cry as he fell into the abyss. It was the monkey that had bitten him and was now latched onto his arm with its sharp little teeth. He tore the shrieking little demon from his skin and threw it after its master.

He had no time to savor the moment, however, as he heard the groan of moving stone through the roaring of the guardian that still reverberated in the air above. The cave was closing, and it was time for him to be gone.

He threw himself away from the cave, desperate to escape the maw that was now sinking back into the earth below. He pulled away not a moment too soon, as the guardian disappeared under the desert sand. The area flashed red, followed by a low rumble as though of thunder, and then there was silence and darkness once again.

Jafar stood for a moment, allowing his momentous success to sink in. After years of searching and waiting, the power of the lamp would work for him and him alone.

He reached into his pocket, cackling with glee. “It’s mine. It’s all mine. I—” Jafar’s hand met with nothing but fabric, and his stomach turned to ice. “Where is it? No! Noooooo!”

Jafar fell to his knees and howled his frustration and rage to the cold and silent stars.


	21. Joker

Aladdin returned to consciousness gradually as his senses came back bit by bit. He was first aware of the touch of small hands on his shoulder, shaking him. He could hear Abu squabbling above him, but it was faint and echoing, as though he were listening at the end of a long tunnel. Finally he became aware that his cheek was resting on something soft. When he twitched his fingers against it, the thing he was lying on _moved_ , raising him up until he was kneeling on the cold, hard ground. Aladdin swayed as pain lanced through his head but managed to stay upright with some help from the magic carpet.

He groaned as he reached up to cradle his aching skull. When he opened his eyes, he thought at first he’d gone blind, but then remembered where he was and why it was so dark. He closed his eyes again and waited for them to adjust to the low light that was coming from…somewhere.

When he finally looked up, he saw what he had both feared and expected. “We’re trapped. That two-faced son of a jackal! Oooh…” He groaned again as his brief outburst made his head throb. He squeezed his eyes shut and dug the heels of his palms into them to try to concentrate on blocking out the pain.

_Out of the frying pan, into the fire._ Where had he heard that before? It seemed particularly applicable at the moment. He’d escaped from the dungeon only to end up trapped in an underground cave. Hard to believe that just days ago he was free and happy, not a care in the world…or at least, compared to now. Yeah, things hadn’t exactly been a bed of roses before, but it was a hell of a lot better than _this_.

The worst part was that he knew he had only himself to blame. He’d been an idiot to think that he could ever trust Jafar even a little. He should have cut and run as soon as they left the dungeon. Sure he’d given his word that he’d help Jafar in exchange for his freedom, but that evil sack of slime was evidently planning on going back on their deal the whole time, so Aladdin really needn’t have felt guilty about going back on his end.

All that aside, he at the very least should never have handed over the lamp before he was safely out of the cave. _That_ had been really dumb. But he’d panicked and done the stupid thing. He wondered why Jafar wanted the lamp anyway. There were so many other treasures in the cave that the tarnished, dented lamp seemed insignificant in comparison. But Jafar was already rich—he must be, as the Sultan’s Royal Vizier—so maybe riches weren’t what he was after.

“Whatever it was, he’s long gone with that lamp,” Aladdin muttered, staring up at the closed cave entrance.

That’s when Abu tugged on Aladdin’s vest to get his attention. The little monkey was holding something shiny—the lamp!

“Hah! Why you hairy little thief!” Aladdin accepted the lamp from Abu, ruffling the fur on his head and feeling a swell of affection for the little monster. If he had to be stuck down here, at least Jafar didn’t get what he wanted either. He eyed the lamp as he stood up, wondering again why Jafar wanted it so much. “Looks like such a beat-up, worthless piece of junk,” he muttered to Abu and the hovering carpet. “Hey, I think there’s something written here, but it—it’s hard to make out.” He rubbed the lamp with the heel of his hand to try to shine it up a bit, and that’s when it exploded.

The lamp glowed as if it were red hot and began to shake so hard that Aladdin had difficulty holding onto it. He wasn’t so sure that he _should_ try to hold onto it when smoke and sparks began shooting from the spout and quickly filled the entire cave. Aladdin almost started panicking again when a deafening noise like a scream echoed around the chamber as something huge and blue emerged from the smoke. And then, to Aladdin’s great shock, that something spoke.

“Oi! Ten thousand years will give you such a crick in the neck! Hang on a second.” And before Aladdin knew what was happening, the blue man (for that’s what it was) had picked him up and hung him by the back of his vest from an outcropping of rock. Abu and the carpet hurried over to help Aladdin down, but Aladdin kept his eyes on the… _being_ that was currently turning its head all the way around on its blue shoulders. 

“Wow, does it feel good to be outta there!” The blue man did not appear to have legs, but it did have a smoky tail that it picked up and began speaking into, for some reason. “I tell ya, nice to be back, ladies and gentlemen.” Aladdin bumped to the ground and looked around to see who the man was referring to, but the cave was still empty but for him, Abu, and Carpet. Suddenly the blue man was shoving his tail in Aladdin’s face. “Hi, where ya from, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Aladdin,” he said to the tail.

“ _Aladdin!_ Hello Aladdin, nice to have you on the show. Can we call you Al, or maybe just Din?” Colorful words appeared next to the man as he spoke, but though Aladdin read Arabic quite well now, these words appeared to be written in the Latin alphabet, which he had only just started to learn before—well, before he found out his teacher was a princess. He didn’t have time to even try to translate them though before they disappeared and the blue man continued, “Or how ‘bout Laddie? Sounds like, ‘Here, boy!’” The man whistled and turned into a giant blue dog. “C’mon Laddie!”

Aladdin, wide-eyed, raised his hand to the back of his head. “I must’ve hit my head harder than I thought!” he said to Abu. That was the only explanation he could think of for what he was currently experiencing.

“Yo, rug man, haven’t seen you in a few millennia, give me some tassel!” The magic carpet, which appeared to be familiar with this being, performed an interesting version of a handless handshake with the blue man’s giant hand.

And then the man’s erratic attention was back on Aladdin, and Aladdin wasn’t really sure he wanted it to be. “Say! You’re a lot smaller than my last master. Either that or I’m gettin’ bigger. Look at me from the side, do I look different to you?”

“Wait, wait a minute.” Aladdin had caught what the creature had mentioned in passing. “I’m your master?”

“That’s right! He can be taught!” Aladdin momentarily found himself with a scroll in one hand and a strange square hat on his head, but they faded so quickly he wasn’t sure if they’d even really been there, and besides, the man was continuing to talk a mile a minute and Aladdin needed to listen. “What do you wish of me? The ever impressive, though long contained, the often imitated, but never duplicated, Genie of the Lamp!” The strange man went through a series of transformations as he spoke that were so fast and confusing that it left Aladdin’s head spinning. “Right here, direct from the lamp, right here for your very much wish fulfillment. Thank yooou.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Aladdin may not have understood much of what this odd man was doing, but he did catch that last bit. “Wish fulfillment?”

“Three wishes, to be exact. And ix-nay on the wishing for more wishes. That’s it: three. Uno, dos, tres. No substitutions, exchanges, or refunds.”

Aladdin nearly laughed out loud. This crazy blue giant was a genie, Aladdin was for some reason his master, and that somehow meant that the genie owed him three wishes? “Now I _know_ I’m dreaming,” Aladdin muttered to the monkey perched on his shoulder.

“Master! I don’t think you quite realize what you got here.” The genie waved his hands and Aladdin was swept off his feet and seated on a pile of rocks. “So why don’t you just ruminate whilst I illuminate the possibilities.”

What followed was a show-stopping song and dance number filled with lights and colorful dreams that the genie evidently conjured out of thin air in order to show his new master all the things he could possibly wish for. Aladdin, dazed and dizzied by what was clearly a display of immense magical powers, allowed the genie to sweep him up into one scenario after another. He quickly discovered that it was easier to relax and let the genie take him for a ride than it was to resist, and the genie certainly wasn’t hurting him any, so why not? It had been quite some time since a sincere smile had crossed Aladdin’s face, but this ecstatic creature was having too much fun for it not to affect Aladdin as well. He found himself getting caught up in the genie’s world, so much that he applauded when the genie concluded. 

“Wow! No wonder Jafar wanted the lamp,” Aladdin said to himself. The genie, however, overheard.

“Friend of yours?”

“No way! That scumbag locked me up and then tried to kill me.”

“Well, now you have the perfect means for revenge.” The genie smirked. “What should I do to him? Give him a really high-pitched voice? Bad luck for seven years? Itching powder in his drawers?”

Aladdin smiled at the thought, but shook his head. “Nah, he’s not worth it. Fun as that would be, I don’t really care that much.”

The genie arched one eyebrow. “He locked you up and tried to kill you and you don’t really care?”

Aladdin shrugged. “I’d need a lot more wishes than three if I tried to take revenge on everyone who’s ever tried to have me killed or imprisoned. Besides, I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Although, come to think of it, he might not be for long if his circumstances didn’t change soon. He was still trapped down here.

“So what’ll it be, then, master?” the genie asked.

Aladdin thought for a moment. “You’re gonna grant me any three wishes I want, right?” he asked.

“Uh, almost. There are a few provisos, a couple of quid pro quos.”

“Like?”

“Uh, rule number one: I can’t kill anybody. So don’t ask. Or rule number two: I can’t make anybody fall in love with anybody else. Rule number three! I can’t bring people back from the dead. It’s not a pretty picture! Other than that, you got it!” The genie was very graphic with his visuals during his explanation, which Aladdin was coming to understand was usual for it.

An idea occurred to Aladdin then, a possible way to get out of his current situation while testing the powers of the genie. He glanced at Abu. Abu looked back at him with a grin on his funny little face. “Provisos? You mean limitations? On wishes? Heh, some all-powerful genie! Can’t even bring people back from the dead.” Aladdin played up the skepticism even more as he rose from his seat on the rock and made to leave. “I don’t know, Abu. He probably can’t even get us out of this cave. Looks like _we’re_ gonna have to find a way out of here—“

He was stopped by an enormous foot slamming down in front of him. He looked up at the now rather irate genie. “Excuse me? Are you lookin’ at me? Did you rub my lamp? Did you wake me up? Did you bring me here, and all of a sudden you’re walkin’ out on me? I don’t think so, not right now! You’re gettin’ your wishes, so SIT DOWN!” Aladdin sat down on the carpet immediately, cowed by the genie’s anger. He took a moment to reflect that perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to incite the wrath of an ancient, practically omnipotent being.

He didn’t have to worry long though, for when the genie landed on the carpet behind him his good humor was completely restored. It was like he hadn’t been angry at all. “In case of emergency, the exits are hereherehereherehere… anywhere! Keep your hands and arms inside the carpet. Weeeee’re outta here!”

And with that, the carpet shot up to the top of the cave, rising so fast and steep that Aladdin nearly slipped off backwards. He had a moment of panic when it looked like they would slam into the ceiling, but they instead passed right through it and burst out into the bright morning sunlight.

“This is your captain speaking. The temperature is eighty-four degrees, wind speed seventeen miles per hour north-northwest. Perfect weather for flying! Your flight attendant will be along shortly—“

Aladdin tuned out the genie’s nonsensical ramblings and took a deep breath of fresh air. Free at last! He let the profound relief wash over him. No more dungeons, mystical caves, or treacherous nobles. He had a magic carpet, a genie, and his best friend Abu, and he was free to go anywhere or do anything he wanted.

The question was, what did he want?

His first impulse was to get as far away from Agrabah as possible. He was still a wanted fugitive—or at least he would be after they found out that he’d escaped. But more than that, he never wanted to return to the place that was currently the source of all his pain. He had the chance to start over completely and he knew he should take it. It was definitely the best choice.

So why did he feel so conflicted about it?

“Thank you for choosing magic carpet for all your travel needs. Don’t stand until the rug has come to a complete stop. Thank you! Goodbye now! Goodbye, thank you, goodbye!” The genie, who was now wearing some strange costume and using a high-pitched voice, had brought the rug to a stop at an oasis. He ushered Aladdin and Abu off the carpet and then changed back to his normal self with a puff of smoke. “Well! How ‘bout that, Mr. Doubting Mustafa?”

Aladdin grinned, looking sidelong at the genie. “Oho, you sure showed me! Now about my three wishes…”

“Dost mine ears deceive me? Three? You are down by one, boy!”

Aladdin’s grin widened. “Aaaah, noooo, I never actually _wished_ to get out of the cave, ha! You did that on your own.”

The genie’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “Well I feel sheepish,” he said, suiting action to word and turning himself into a sheep. “All right, _baaaad_ boy. But no more freebies.”

“Fair deal. Sooo, three wishes. I want them to be good.” An idea struck Aladdin in a sudden flash of inspiration. “What would _you_ wish for?” he asked the genie. Surely the genie had granted many wishes before. He would have the experience to know the difference between a wise and a foolish wish.

The question seemed to genuinely surprise the genie. His eyes popped open and he sat down suddenly in the sand. “Me? No one’s ever asked me that before. Well, in my case—” he started, but then cut himself off with a sigh. “Ah, forget it.”

“What?”

“No, I can’t, I—”

“C’mon, tell me!” Aladdin’s curiosity was aroused by the genie’s evasive manner, which wasn’t at all like him in Aladdin’s short experience of him.

The genie looked back at Aladdin with earnest longing on his face and said just one word: “Freedom!”

Aladdin was caught by surprise at the genie’s response. He picked up the lamp again and looked at it. He hadn’t thought of that before. “You’re a prisoner?”

“It’s all part and parcel of the whole genie gig. PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER! Iiiiitty bitty living space!” The genie squeezed himself into the tiny lamp to make his point.

Aladdin’s heart sank. “Aw, Genie. That’s terrible.” He couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the genie. He knew exactly what it felt like to be a prisoner—he’d been one until very recently after all. And hadn’t the genie said he’d been trapped in the lamp for ten thousand years? What would it be like to spend _ten thousand years_ as a prisoner? Aladdin couldn’t even begin to imagine how that must feel.

The genie, however, was caught up in imagining something more pleasant. “But oh! To be free! Not to have to go *poof* ‘What do you need?’ *poof* ‘What do you need?’ *poof* ‘What do you need?’ To be my own master. Such a thing would be greater than all the magic and all the treasure in all the world!” For a moment, the genie smiled at the thought of his freedom, but he quickly sank back down to the ground. “But what am I talking about? Let’s get real here, it’s not gonna happen. Genie, wake up and smell the hummus!”

“Why not?” Aladdin asked. He didn’t like the way the genie slumped in defeat. Could it be that the genie had given up on his own dream? What kind of life would that be, granting the wishes of others but never being allowed any of your own?

The genie scowled. “The only way _I_ get out of this is if my master _wishes_ me out. So, you can guess how often that’s happened.”

Aladdin smiled. Now that was a wish he knew he could do something about. “I’ll do it. I’ll set you free.”

“Uh huh, yeah, right.” The genie turned his head into another with a nose that grew rapidly. Aladdin didn’t know what it was supposed to be, but the meaning was clear enough: the genie didn’t believe him.

“No, really, I promise. After I make my first two wishes, I’ll use my third wish to set you free.” He offered the genie his hand.

The genie looked skeptical, but reached out hesitantly to shake Aladdin’s hand. “Well, here’s hopin’,” he muttered. “All right. Let’s make some magic! So how ‘bout it? What is it _you_ want most?”

And there was the million dinar question again. Aladdin cast his eyes over his surroundings, hoping for inspiration, and noticed something familiar about the place they had landed. The oasis…He’d been here before, it was—

It was the first stop on their journey when he’d escaped from Agrabah with Yasmin almost two years ago. The first time he had run away to start a new life, this is the place he’d run to.

The memory of that night swept over him with such clarity that it was as though it had happened yesterday. They almost hadn’t made it, he recalled. They’d walked an entire day past when they should have found this place and well into the night before they’d finally stumbled upon it, injured, exhausted, and dehydrated. They’d held each other under the stars and talked about the future.

That’s when Aladdin realized why he couldn’t wish himself away. He couldn’t imagine a future without her. He still loved her, despite everything, even after the lies and betrayal.

He wasn’t as sure of her love now as he used to be, but that’s what he had to find out. He couldn’t live with himself if he just took off. The doubt would eat away at him for years—he would carry these questions with him forever if he left now. He had to know. Even if it turned out she didn’t love him the same as he loved her, he had to _know_.

And then there was Jafar to consider. For what purpose had he needed the genie? What was the man planning? Whatever it was, Aladdin didn’t think it boded well for the princess. He would save her from Jafar’s machinations if he could. She at the very least had to be warned.

So that’s it. He had to go back. He had to find out why she’d lied to him, how she really felt about him. Maybe there was no future for him with her, but he’d never know unless he tried.

“Uh, hey Al, hate to break up the brooding silence, but did you forget the question?”

Aladdin sighed and looked over at the genie, who had sprouted a long, white beard and wrinkled face to emphasize how long he’d been waiting. “No, that’s the question that’s on my mind. I think I know what I want, but I’m not sure how to—how to put it into a wish.”

“Well kid, maybe I can help you out with that. I am pretty good at wishes, y’know.” Aladdin grinned at the genie and the genie grinned back. “So…what do you think you want?”

Aladdin’s smile turned into a frown. “Well…there’s—this girl—”

The genie interrupted then, pressing his nose and making a noise like a panicked goat. “ _Aaagn!_ Wrong! I can’t make anybody fall in love, remember?”

“I remember, and that’s exactly what I _don’t_ want you to do, so don’t worry.”

The genie’s eyebrows lifted a bit, as though he were surprised.

“I guess…I guess what I really want is to know whether she loves me, and why—why she did what she did.”

The genie chuckled. “I don’t suppose you could make that any more vague?”

Aladdin ignored him. “But I don’t want you to just tell me what she’s thinking. I want to hear it from her. But…I don’t think she’ll tell me the truth.” He sighed and muttered, “She certainly didn’t before.”

“Sounds like you’ve been unlucky in love, my boy,” the genie said, turning himself into a matronly woman. “Why don’t you tell old Genie all about it, hmm?”

Aladdin shook his head. “I don’t want to go into too many details right now, but… I met her on the streets of Agrabah. I was a thief and she was a runaway. We lived there together until the guards chased us out of town. Then we traveled from town to town for the next two years, working odd jobs, making the odd friend. Things were going okay until one day the Agrabah city guards show up again and place us both under arrest. Turns out she’s the daughter and only child of the _Sultan of Agrabah_ , and she never told me.” Aladdin watched the genie’s eyes bug out with some small satisfaction that he was able to shock the strange creature.

“So the Royal Vizier hauls us both back off to Agrabah where I’m informed that I’ll get to languish in prison for the rest of my life while she marries a prince and provides him with heirs to the throne. After a few weeks, the Royal Vizier comes to visit me in my cozy little cell in the dungeon and offers me a shady deal to get me out of there. I agreed, so he brought me to the cave and pushed me inside, and now here we are.”

The genie let out a long, low whistle. “Wow. That story’s so crazy it has to be true.”

“Crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s just—I thought that she loved me. But if she loved me, why did she lie to me? Why didn’t she set me free from the dungeon? Was I just—convenient to her?” Aladdin saw the genie wince as he said that. “I just want to know.”

“So that’s it?” the genie asked. “That’s all you want? Just to know what’s on her mind? You don’t, say, want to maybe win her back or anything, do you?” The genie raised an eyebrow with a look like he thought he already knew the answer to that question.

Aladdin sighed. “All right, fine. Yes. I do want her back, even after everything. I still love her, Genie.”

The genie just shook his head, a soft smile on his face. “Of course you do,” he said, almost as though to himself. “You’re the Diamond in the Rough.”

Aladdin frowned. “The guardian of the Cave said that too. What does that even mean?”

The genie only smiled wider. “I suspect you’ll find out sooner or later.” Aladdin opened his mouth to insist on an explanation, but the genie headed him off. “So what’s the plan for wooing the little lady?”

“Well, that’s not exactly going to be easy. She’s the princess. To even have a chance I’d have to be—” The lights came on in Aladdin’s head. “Hey…can you make me a prince?”

“Uh, let’s see.” The genie, dressed in a frilly apron, began to consult a book that appeared to attack him every time he turned a page. “Chicken à la King? Nope. Alaskan king crab—ow! I hate when they do that! Caesar salad—Aaaah! Et tu, Brute? Nope. Aha! To Make a Prince. Now is that an official wish? Say the magic words!”

Aladdin took a deep breath. “Genie, I wish for you to make me a prince!”

“All riiiiiight!” the genie whooped, pumping his fist. “Hold on to your fez, kid. We’re gonna make you a star!”


	22. Knave of Clubs

Jasmine looked down her nose at the worm that had managed to crawl into the palace. She had been trying to conceal her utter disgust and contempt for the last hour or more, but she was sure that she was failing. That the worm bore the title of prince made it no more welcome in her eyes. It was still vermin.

Prince Achmed sat across the table from her, smiling in that little nasty way that she recalled hating the last time she’d met him.

“Your Excellency,” Achmed was saying, addressing her father at the head of the table, “as you know, relations between our houses have been strained since that— _ahem_ —unfortunate incident when your guards detained me under false charges. I’m sure you can see that a marriage between myself and your daughter would go a long way towards mending that bond.” His grin widened.

Jasmine gritted her teeth at the sound of his nasal, pompous voice and stabbed the fish on her plate with her knife a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary. She wished she could reacquaint him with Rajah. The tiger, however, was not allowed near her when suitors came calling, by her own command. It was too much of a temptation.

Today, however, was the first occasion she’d had to exercise that command. Weeks had passed since sending out invitations to all the neighboring kingdoms, but Achmed was the only one who had responded so far. She felt a little nervous tingle along her spine that told her that he might be the only one coming at all, but she quickly pushed that feeling down and away. She gave herself a little shake and brought her attention back to the conversation at hand.

“Yes, that was quite unfortunate, and a terrible mistake on my part,” the Sultan replied. “It should never have happened, and I again extend my apologies to you and your family. I hope that you will forgive an old man for being a bit overzealous in his attempt to secure his daughter’s safety. I wish, however, that you will hold no ill will for what happened towards my daughter, who was not there and did not make any of the decisions that led to your arrest.”

Jasmine was already lost. Her father had arrested Prince Achmed? Not that he didn’t deserve it, but why? Apparently it had something to do with her, but Jasmine hadn’t heard of this before. She’d have to ask her father about it after dinner, when they were alone.

“Oh no, your Excellency,” said Achmed, “I’m quite willing to let bygones be bygones. My father, however…” The nasty little smile on his face slipped into a nasty little grimace. “He is not yet ready to let the matter rest. I had to talk him out of cutting off trade with Agrabah entirely.” He shook his head and sighed dramatically.

“Now that my name is indisputably cleared, though,” Achmed continued, “my father seems to think that more reparations are needed.”

_“I’ll just bet he does, you little cockroach,”_ Jasmine thought to herself. She took a drink of wine to disguise the deep frown on her lips, giving herself time to smooth her face back into an inscrutable mask. She knew what Achmed was getting at. This was a thinly veiled threat if there ever was one.

“You’ve hardly said a word all night, princess,” Achmed turned his unpleasant smile on her. “I can see that your manners have much improved since last we met.”

_I’ll teach you some manners!_

Jasmine froze. She barely registered that Achmed had discreetly insulted her. All she could think of was that day long ago now that her dear Aladdin had told her about his encounter with the selfsame man that sat before her.

This _prince_ had tried to use a whip on two innocent children, then kicked their defender to the ground and insulted him as he rode off. He had considered the man Jasmine had loved to be beneath him simply because of birth and circumstance. With a stab of angry satisfaction, she imagined how appalled he would be if he knew that that same street rat had been her lover for the last two years.

Then she imagined what Aladdin would have felt if he knew she was seriously considering marrying the man that had abused him.

She clenched her hands in the napkin on her lap as a wave of anger and sadness passed through her. She murmured her excuses to her father and Prince Achmed and left the table so they wouldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes.

♣

Jasmine knew that her father would come to her rooms as soon as he had finished entertaining Prince Achmed, and so she did not have time to wallow in her sorrow. By the time the knock came on her door, she had made sure that her face was dry and her eyes were not red or puffy and that Rajah was by her side to support her.

“Come,” she said, and the door immediately opened to admit her father. Right away, Jasmine noted that he did not look pleased. She didn’t blame him.

Her father shut the door and marched over to her, frown firmly in place. “Jasmine, what are you doing? Prince Achmed came to court you and you left halfway through dinner. You’re not being very polite, my dear.”

“I’m _not being very polite?”_ she thought, but instead she said, “I know, father. I’m sorry. I’ll be sure to spend more time with him tomorrow. I promise to be civil.”

Her father was not pacified by her words. He remained standing in front of her, worry lining his face. “Jasmine, I thought we had an agreement. You were to choose a prince to marry before your next birthday—”

“And I will, father.” Jasmine cut him off. “I just need time to consider.”

The Sultan sighed. “What more is there to consider? Prince Achmed is the clear choice—in fact, he is the _only_ choice. No other princes have come, my dear. And Prince Achmed and his father have been very good trading partners and allies—”

“I know all of that, father. But I do not wish to be precipitate in my decision. I still have a week before I announce my choice, and another prince may yet come. Please, let me make my decision as you promised.”

Her father looked at her with a searching gaze, something that was new to him since she had returned. He had never given her that look when she was a child. Now it was almost enough to make her squirm, if it weren’t for her resolve on this matter.

“Jasmine, I get the sense that you do not really want to marry Prince Achmed at all.”

Jasmine gave a very unladylike snort at her father’s conclusion, but regretted it when she saw the look on his face.

“Of course I don’t want to marry him,” she said anyway, deciding that he needed to hear the truth. “He comes here with rude insults and thinly veiled threats. He’s pompous, arrogant, cruel—”

“Now Jasmine, how can you say such things?” her father interrupted. “I suppose I must concede that he’s a bit full of himself, but _cruel?_ ”

“But he is, Father,” Jasmine replied. “When—when I ran away I heard a story about him.” Jasmine continued with some hesitation in her voice. She seldom spoke of her time away from the palace, but she wanted her father to understand. “The last time he came here, to court me, he tried to whip two small children that had wandered into his path. A—a boy—stepped in to protect the children, and he struck the boy down. None of them had done anything wrong,” she continued, her voice growing quiet. “He hurt that boy just because he could—because he believed the boy was beneath him.”

The Sultan was silent for a moment before he came to sit next to her on the couch. “I do admit that that story is disturbing to me,” he said after a moment. “But Jasmine, I feel there is more that you are not telling me.”

Jasmine looked up at him, searching his face for his meaning, wary of what he was getting at. Her father took her hands in his, face softening with sympathy. “I could not help but notice, my dear, that you have been crying.”

Jasmine’s hand flew to her face. Were her eyes still puffy? She thought she had managed to bring the swelling down better than that.

Her father shook his head as he continued. “I saw you tearing up at dinner as you excused yourself—do not worry, I don’t think Prince Achmed noticed—” he reassured her when her face paled. “But I am your father and I know your face, my dear. I know when you have been crying, and I know that you have been sad more often than not of late.”

Jasmine looked down at their hands. She had not thought her father would have noticed that. She had tried to stay strong these last weeks, but sometimes her emotions still broke through her reserve. To her frustration, even the most unexpected things could set her off. The most insignificant sound or scent could send her mind back in time to when she was still living on the streets side by side with her love, and she would find that she could not stop the tears from flowing in those moments.

She felt her father’s gentle touch on her cheek, turning her face towards his. Jasmine looked into his eyes and saw pain there. “Jasmine, my daughter, I wish you would tell me what has upset you so. I know it must be something that happened before you were found and brought back to me. And I’m sure that it is not something you wish to dwell on, but I only want to help you. Whatever it is, I will do whatever is in my power to make it right.”

Jasmine felt tears well in her eyes again at her father’s entreaty. If only he did have the power to right this wrong. When she was a child, Jasmine had believed that her father could do anything, make all things as he wished. Then her mother had died, and she had realized in her grief that there were some things her father could not control, no matter how much she believed in him. This was one of those things.

“It’s a long story,” Jasmine finally managed to say, her voice hoarse with unshed tears, “and there’s nothing that can be done to make it right now, father.” She wasn’t sure she could go on. She had been avoiding having this conversation for a reason. What could she say to make her father understand? Did she even want him to know about what she’d had outside of his palace?

“I know it is hard for you, my dear, but I feel I need to know. I can’t stand watching you cry and not knowing…” Her father cleared his throat. “Here now, let’s make this easier. I’ll start the tale, and you can jump in any time you wish, all right?” Jasmine nodded, though she did not believe that she would be jumping in at all.

The Sultan settled himself against the cushions of his seat and Jasmine endeavored to do the same, arranging herself so that she was turned toward him, but not really facing him. 

“It wasn’t until the day after Prince Achmed left that we realized you were missing,” her father began. “We searched high and low, but you were nowhere to be found anywhere in the palace. We had no idea what had become of you. I was…so worried for you.”

Jasmine felt her heart clench. She had known from the start, of course, that her father would be worried about her, but that didn’t stop a strong wave of guilt from washing over her upon hearing him confirm it.

“Since you weren’t in the palace, we came to the conclusion that you had been kidnapped. Jafar sent men out immediately to arrest Prince Achmed. He was so dreadfully angry with your behavior, and since your disappearance coincided with his departure, we thought it not unlikely that he had taken you.”

So _that_ was what Achmed had been referring to at dinner this evening. Jasmine might have smiled at the thought that Achmed had been arrested if she didn’t have a more important question on her mind. “Father, you keep saying ‘we.’ Who else—?”

“Jafar, of course, was leading the search.”

“Of course,” Jasmine muttered, but the Sultan seemed not to hear her as he continued speaking.

“It didn’t take us long to realize that we were wrong about Prince Achmed. I let him go immediately, with reparations, but I fear he has not forgiven me…” The Sultan looked troubled, and Jasmine suppressed the urge to sigh. As far as she could tell, her father did not know how to hold a grudge. He was a remarkably forgiving man, which in Jasmine’s opinion was something to be admired. But she had noticed that this made it so that he did not understand such ill feeling in others. Her father clearly did not understand why Prince Achmed could not forgive an insult to his pride that was committed rashly in the desperate search for the Sultan’s missing daughter.

“We had no news, no word of your whereabouts for more than a month,” her father continued, voice low. “It was as though you had simply disappeared into thin air. I tried everything I could think of. I offered larger and larger rewards. I hired more men to search for you. Jafar had the palace guards combing the city and he tightened security at the gates.

“I was so worried for you, my dear. There were days I feared I would never know what had happened to you. In those moments, I could not imagine what I would do—” The Sultan stopped himself, lips pressed firmly together, and Jasmine felt the hand around her heart tighten its grip. How could she have put her father through this? She could have done something, sent word to him somehow to let him know that she was all right.

“Finally, at long last, Jafar discovered what had happened to you. He found that you had left the palace alone, without an escort, and had fallen under the influence of a thief, an unrepentant lowlife who had spent the better part of his life dodging the law.” The Sultan’s voice grew hard and Jasmine’s eyes widened. Was he talking about—no, not like that. It couldn’t be; it was so far from what had actually happened.

Her father continued speaking, unaware of his daughter’s surprise and confusion. “But it was too late. He had been spotted, nearly apprehended in fact, taking you out of the city. The vagabond absconded with you into the desert, and when—when day after day went by and you were not found…” The Sultan’s voice trailed away, but his expression spoke volumes. Jasmine felt tears welling in her eyes as she watched her father’s face fall.

“I never stopped looking for you,” he said softly. “Even though everyone else was convinced you had perished in the desert, I persisted. Even if you were dead, I had to find you. I had to know—” The Sultan’s voice gave out again.

“When finally I heard the news that you had been found alive, I could have fallen down with relief. And to have you back with me now is all that I have wished for for two years.”

Jasmine swallowed the tears that threatened to fall and took her father’s hand. “I missed you too, Father. I am so glad to be with you again.”

But the Sultan shook his head slightly, even as he curled his hand around hers. “But my dear, I can see that you are still suffering.” He looked straight at her then, his mouth set in a determined frown. “Please tell me what continues to trouble you, Jasmine. I cannot even begin to imagine what you’ve been through—what _he_ put you through.” Her father’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Forced to live with that—that _degenerate_ , forced into a situation so beneath you—! May that man rot in hell for what he did!”

Jasmine buried her face in her hands and burst into noisy sobs at hearing her father’s outburst. She could no longer hold back her tears. It was so unlike her father to say such things, and to curse Aladdin’s name! Aladdin, the man who had loved and cared for her so much, who had given her everything he had, who had sacrificed everything for her! It was too much to bear to know that her father had hated him all this time, thinking he had been hurting her when nothing could be farther from the truth. 

She felt her father’s arm around her shoulders, pulling her forward to rest her head upon his breast. She wanted to reach out to him, clutch him to her, but she could not make her arms move to do it.

“I’m sorry, Jasmine,” her father said, voice choked with his own tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you as I should have. I’m sorry that this happened to you. I have failed in my duty as your father. But please Jasmine, I’m here with you now. The thief is dead and gone; he will never hurt you again. You need not fear him anymore. I will protect you until the end of my days.”

Jasmine only sobbed harder at her father’s unintentionally cruel reminder that Aladdin was no longer alive. It was a long while before she was able to bring herself under control enough to stop crying.

She finally looked up into her father’s tear-filled eyes and saw that her evident pain had affected him deeply. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have brought this up. I’m afraid that I’ve only upset you…” The Sultan tried to draw away, but Jasmine laid her hand over his, stopping him.

“No Father, you are right.” She took a deep breath. “I must tell you what happened to me. You need to understand. I should not have let this misperception stand as long as it has.”

She could see that her father was confused by her words, but he said nothing, allowing her to continue in her explanation.

Jasmine cast her mind back. Where to begin? There was so much that had happened, but it was probably best if she began where her version of events diverged from her father’s: the night she ran away.

“I didn’t just leave the palace unescorted, Father,” she said. “I ran away, with the intention of never returning. Do you know why?”

She watched the Sultan’s eyes widen as he shook his head. Jasmine sighed. “I suppose you wouldn’t,” she continued. “I tried to talk to you about it, but our conversations on the subject never quite got to the heart of things. You just thought that I was being stubborn about marrying for love. But really…I was afraid.”

Jasmine nodded at the look of shock on her father’s face. “I was afraid of marriage. All the princes that came to court me—I didn’t feel like I even _could_ get to know them. I felt like they were wearing masks whenever they were with me and I couldn’t see the person underneath. They were all just telling me the things they thought I wanted to hear so they could earn my favor. I was fifteen and not very worldly. I didn’t know what to look for, how to tell a good man from a man that only wanted my claim to the throne.”

Jasmine paused. “I suppose I was afraid that I’d make a bad choice and I’d be stuck with someone who didn’t care for me. All I knew was inside the palace. If my husband didn’t love me, I’d be trapped in my own kind of prison. That is a kind of torture I truly didn’t wish to face.”

Jasmine felt her father’s hand on hers and she smiled. “So I did something really, truly foolish. I ran away. It was probably both the stupidest and the best decision I ever made in my life.”

Jasmine told her father everything. She told him about how she nearly lost her hand to help an urchin boy, about the thief that saved her and gave her shelter. She told him about surviving in the slums and then fleeing the city to start a new life. And she told him about how Aladdin had been by her side through all of it.

But the hardest part of telling her tale came when she reached the end.

“And then, out of nowhere, Jafar showed up. I still don’t know how he found us, but he managed to do what the guards had always failed to do. He captured us, and once he had us he—revealed everything.”

Jasmine took another deep breath and continued, her voice low. “You see, I never told Aladdin who I really was. He didn’t know I was a princess. He didn’t even know my real name. He just thought I was the runaway daughter of some rich merchant. He never dreamed I was royalty. The look on his face when Jafar told him—” Jasmine’s voice broke and she paused to clear her throat.

“You seem to think, Father, that Aladdin was the one who was manipulating and lying to me, but you have it all wrong. I was the one lying to him. I lied to him so that he would stay with me. I lied so that I wouldn’t have to face my responsibilities. _I_ manipulated _him_ , not the other way around. All he ever did was give me everything he had to offer, and all the while I used him because—because I’d never had anyone like him before and I wanted him forever!”

Jasmine could feel the tears gathering in her eyes again, despite her efforts to keep them at bay. “And look what my deceit has cost him. He’s dead, executed for kidnapping me, when really he was only trying to help me. He loved me, and look where it got him. He was always there when I needed him, for anything, and when he needed me, I—I let him down. I let him die. It’s my fault.”

“No, Jasmine!” her father almost whispered, horrified. “You mustn’t blame yourself, my dear!”

“But I do, Father, and you can’t tell me that I bear no responsibility for what happened. You know I do.”

The Sultan fell silent then, and Jasmine knew that he was thinking over what she had told him. Finally he turned to her and spoke again, and his voice was soft.

“You really loved him, Jasmine?”

“Yes, Father.”

“And he loved you?”

“Yes.”

“Then my dear, I do not think he would want you to blame yourself.”

Jasmine felt a tear slide down her face as she turned to look at her father. “How do you know?”

“The thief is not the only one who loves you Jasmine. I have been hurting too, these last two years without you. Your actions hurt me as well.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” Jasmine managed to force her voice out around whatever it was that was constricting her throat.

“I know you are, dear. And I forgive you. I forgive you because I love you. And that’s how I know that he wouldn’t want to you blame yourself. If he loved you, he would forgive you too. And he would want you to be happy again.”

Jasmine only shook her head as her father pulled her back to rest against his chest. She held inside what she wanted to say aloud then. She’d had her chance at happiness already, with Aladdin. She had thrown it away. She knew she didn’t deserve any more chances.


	23. Royal Flush

“Jafar, this is an outrage. If it weren’t for all your years of loyal service…” The Sultan paused to make a few offended huffing noises, as though he simply couldn’t find words for a scandal of this magnitude. “From now on, you’re to discuss sentencing of prisoners with me— _before_ they are beheaded.”

Jafar did not even look up from where he knelt in front of the throne, head bowed in submission. The better to assure the Sultan and his daughter of his supposed repentance. Even Iago, perched on his left shoulder, was bowing. “I assure you, your highness, it won’t happen again.”

“Jasmine,” the Sultan said, voice softening, “Jafar.” Jafar took the Sultan’s extended hand and took it as his signal to rise at last. “Let’s put this whole messy business behind us, _please_.” The Sultan then joined the princess’s hand with Jafar’s.

Jafar could see that the princess did not want to be anywhere near him, despite her father’s obvious wish for their reconciliation. Jafar still had to act the part of the penitent though, even if he knew she wasn’t buying it. “My most abject and humblest apologies to you as well, princess.”

The girl yanked her hand out of his, scowling. “At least some good will come of my being forced to marry. When I am sultana I will have the power to get rid of _you_ ,” she spat, and then turned on her heel and marched away.

The Sultan gave Jafar a worried look before he dashed after his willful daughter, calling for her to wait.

The simpering smile Jafar had pasted onto his face melted into a scowl. “If only I had gotten that lamp!”

“ _I will have the power to get rid of you!_ ” Iago’s skills in mimicry were truly remarkable, and he’d had plenty of opportunity to develop his imitation of the spoiled princess. “Arrrgh, that’s it! We gotta keep kissin’ up to that chump and his chump daughter for the rest of our lives! Grrrgh!”

“No, Iago,” Jafar said, crossing to the balcony and looking down into the garden, where the Sultan was attempting to get the girl to listen to him. “Only until she finds a chump husband. Then she’ll have us banished—or beheaded!”

Iago looked like he might be sick at that thought. “Uuggh!”

The bird recovered quickly though and flew down to the balcony so he could see Jafar’s face better. “So, any progress on making yourself the chump husband?”

Jafar’s scowl deepened. “I had thought when Prince Achmed showed up that the princess would give him much the same welcome as she did before, but she actually seems to be trying her best to be polite and charming with him. I cannot fathom it, Iago. She couldn’t stand him before, and unless I am very much mistaken, she still holds him in disdain. She’s just trying to hide her feelings now. I don’t understand it.”

“I didn’t either, but she is kinda limited on options, Jafar. It’s either you or Prince Achmed. She _has_ to get married to one of you.”

“That’s true, but she never had any regard for the law or her father’s wishes before. She refused to make a decision—she even ran away to avoid it!”

“Yeah, ran away two years ago, and spent the whole time since then slumming it around the desert. Maybe she’s had her priorities realigned.”

Jafar blinked. “Do you mean to suggest that the princess has— _grown up?_ ”

Iago snorted. “I don’t think I would go quite that far. But she must realize that unless she wants to run away again and spend the rest of her life on the streets scrounging for food and sleeping with rats, she’s gotta make a decision.”

Jafar stroked his beard. “What you say has merit. Now that she is safe behind the palace walls again, she would probably do almost anything to avoid the streets, including get married to a man she loathes.”

“Right. But there are different degrees of loathing.”

“Yes, I know. She may detest the very sight of Prince Achmed, but she would still choose him over me, the man responsible for putting her lover to death.”

“So what’re we gonna do about it?”

Jafar sighed. “We cannot do anything to Prince Achmed. His kingdom is already at odds with Agrabah because of the last time he was incarcerated without cause. Therefore we must work on changing the princess’s mind.”

“You ain’t gonna change _her_ mind. She’s stubborn, and if today was any indication, she’ll never forgive you.”

Jafar only grinned. “Well, Iago, then we must give her no choice.”

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

The Sultan looked up at Jafar in confusion. “What do you mean, the princess is breaking the law? She’s going to marry a prince! She said so herself. And the law clearly states—”

“I’m afraid, your highness, that the law has something different to say on the subject of the princess’s marriage after she comes of age. In this subsection, you’ll find that the law clearly states that if a suitable prince is not found for the princess by her _sixteenth_ birthday, then she must be wed to the Royal Vizier.”

“But that’s you!”

“Yes, my lord, I was as surprised as you when I discovered this. But you may recall that you were not opposed to our marriage when I first returned your daughter to you. In fact, you had promised her hand to the man that found her…”

“Yes, Jafar, but Jasmine has been through so much lately. The promise I made you was done without her consent. She proposed a compromise and I deemed that it was reasonable.”

“So you would condone your daughter breaking the law?”

“The Sultan picked up his eyeglass to better see the parchment that Jafar had brought with him. “But I thought the law only said the princess had to marry a prince. I’m quite sure—”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, my lord,” said Jafar as he activated the power in his staff. He held it before the Sultan’s face, forcing him to look directly into the eyes of the serpent’s head.

“Desperate…measures…”

Jafar was pleased when the Sultan’s face went blank, his voice weak. He had not attempted to hypnotize the Sultan in almost two years, since his last attempt had ended in failure. He could only hope that the Sultan’s apparent tolerance had worn off by now, and that the new spell he had found would be more powerful and therefore more effective.

“You will order the princess to marry me,” Jafar said, carefully exerting power over the other man’s mind.

“I…will order…the princess…to… But Jafar, I promised Jasmine she could choose!”

Jafar had a moment of anxiety when it appeared that the Sultan was still resisting him. He pulled as much power as he dared from the staff. “The princess _will_ marry me!” he cried, voice echoing through the marble chamber, much louder than it should.

The Sultan’s eyelids drooped, his voice grew weaker. “The princess…will…”

In the distance, a trumpet sounded a fanfare. “What…what’s that?” The Sultan shook off the spell with ease, as though the trumpet’s call had awakened him. He dashed to the balcony. Jafar ground his teeth in frustration. Just one minute more and he would have had the Sultan under his power!

“Haha! Jafar! You must come see this!”

Jafar took care to arrange his face into a calm mask before striding out to join the Sultan on the balcony. Iago uttered an incensed squawk before flying from his perch on the arm of the Sultan’s chair to Jafar’s shoulder.

At first, Jafar wasn’t sure what he was seeing. It appeared to be a caravan making its way up the street toward the palace gates. The people of the city gathered all along the way to marvel at the sight. Camels and horses were decked out with brightly colored, gilded trappings, and the men and women that led them wore richly ornamented clothing. And at the head of the procession on a white horse rode a man dressed in white robes, with a royal turban upon his head.

“Make way for Prince Ali!” The voice wafted up from the street, and Jafar spared a moment to marvel at the herald’s voice—he must surely have a strong set of lungs for his cry to carry all the way up to where he stood with the Sultan upon the balcony.

Or rather, _alone_ upon the balcony as he suddenly realized. The Sultan, upon hearing the announcement of the arrival of another prince, had fairly dashed to the door to let the royal retinue inside.

Jafar followed as quickly as was seemly to stop him, nearly running in his haste, only to find that the Sultan had already ordered the doors thrown open.

Jafar came up just as the man in white dismounted his white horse. But as he swung his leg over to alight, a rug that had been rolled up behind him slipped from the back of the horse and unrolled itself under the man’s feet—still hovering several inches off the ground.

Jafar’s eyes widened as he watched the young man direct the flying carpet through the doors, and he was across the room in barely more than the blink of an eye. The man sank into a low bow as soon as he was before the Sultan.

“Your majesty, I am Prince Ali Ababwa. I have journeyed from afar to seek your daughter’s hand.”

“Prince Ali Ababwa, of course!” the Sultan said as he wrung the man’s hand. “I’m delighted to meet you. And this is my Royal Vizier, Jafar—he’s delighted too.”

“Ecstatic,” said Jafar in the driest tone he could muster. “I’m afraid, Prince Abooboo—”

“Ababwa,” the prince corrected him with a little bow that brought the feather in his turban dangerously close to Jafar’s nose.

“Whatever. You cannot just parade in here uninvited and expect to—”

“By Allah, this is quite a remarkable device!” The Sultan was examining the flying carpet, which had continued to hover nearby even after the lad had stepped off it. “Oh! I don’t suppose I might uh…” The Sultan gestured upwards to indicate what he wanted.

“Why certainly, your Majesty. Allow me,” said the prince with a mischievous smile and bent down to help the old man mount the carpet.

Jafar had to put an end to this quickly, before the situation got out of hand. He banged his staff down on the carpet, pinning it to the floor. “Sire! I must advise against this.”

“Oh, button up, Jafar. Learn to have a little fun!” And without further ceremony, the Sultan kicked his staff out of the way and was off, laughing like a little boy as the carpet took him all around the throne room.

Jafar was fuming as he turned to the prince. “Just where did you say you were from?”

That wiped the smile off the boy’s face. “Oh, uh, much farther than you’ve traveled, I’m sure.”

“Try me.”

Further conversation was forestalled however, when they were both forced to duck to avoid the Sultan. “Out of the way, I’m coming in to land. Jafar watch this, aha!” The Sultan landed in a heap on the floor, clearly more than a bit dizzy but still grinning from ear to ear.

“Spectacular, your highness,” Jafar replied.

“Yes, yes, I do seem to have a knack for it,” the Sultan said as he climbed to his feet. Jafar immediately began to draw him away from this dangerous person that had just invaded the palace, all the while listening to the Sultan babble. “It’s a very impressive youth! And a prince, besides!” He lowered his voice. “If we’re lucky, you won’t have to marry Jasmine after all.”

“I don’t trust him, sire,” hissed Jafar. He absolutely had to turn the Sultan against this new suitor or his chances for winning the princess’s hand would be small indeed.

“Nonsense! One thing I pride myself on, Jafar, I’m an excellent judge of character.”

Jafar could actually hear Iago muttering to himself. “Oh _excellent_ judge, yeah, sure, _not!_ ”

“Mmhmm, Jasmine will like this one!”

“Your highness, no. I must intercede—on Jasmine’s behalf. This boy is no different from the others. What makes him think he is worthy of the princess?”

“Your majesty, why not just let her meet me? If it is meant to be, then I will win your daughter,” the princeling said, flashing an attractive smile at them. Just wonderful. The last thing Jafar needed was a prince with charisma. At least Achmed had very few charms and had made that abundantly clear to both the princess and her father. This boy, on the other hand, was practically steeped in appeal. He was, unfortunately, quite handsome as well, with an athletic build and smooth, regular features—clean-shaven, which gave him a youthful appearance. It was going to make it that much harder for Jafar to turn the royal family against him.

“Father, what’s going on?” Jafar turned to see the princess had entered the throne room on the arm of Prince Achmed. They had been spending more time together the past couple of days.

“Jasmine, I’m so glad you’re here!” The Sultan was practically bouncing with excitement. “May I present to you Prince Ali Ababwa! Prince Ali, this is my daughter, Princess Jasmine.”

Prince Ali strode forward, taking the princess’s hand and bending to kiss it. “Your highness,” he murmured, “It truly is a pleasure to meet you.”

The princess bowed her head slightly as he straightened. “The pleasure is mine, Prince Ali.” Her voice was soft and controlled. Strangely, she did not seem to be immediately taken in by the man’s charms as Jafar had expected. Perhaps she was a bit smarter than he gave her credit for. But Jafar had no doubt that a handsome face would win her over in the end.

The princess turned toward her companion, whose arm she had let go of during the introductions. “Prince Ali, have you met Prince Achmed of Garnakush?”

“Why indeed I have!” the young man exclaimed as he shook Achmed’s outstretched hand. “Though it was some time ago. You probably don’t remember me—I was just a boy at the time, after all. Though I must say I scarcely recognized you, old man! I suppose the years have had their effect on us both.”

Prince Achmed, who recognized a veiled insult when he saw it, scowled briefly before bringing his features back under control. “Yes,” he replied. “I only hope that you have spent those years in worthy pursuits, as I have.”

Ali only smiled. “I should very much like to hear all about your _pursuits_ , but that can wait for now. I believe the Sultan has something he wanted to say.”

“Thank you, Prince Ali,” the Sultan smiled at him. “I only wanted to invite all of you to dine with me this evening. In fact, I insist on having everyone’s attendance! In the meantime, I will have Jafar give orders to the staff to have rooms prepared for Prince Ali, and the rest of us can go to a sitting room, where we might talk a while and enjoy some refreshment.”

A chorus of agreements followed, and the royals moved off to do just that. Jafar watched the newest arrival go with eyes narrowed in suspicion. He did not miss the way the Sultan’s hand patted the boy’s back in a fatherly sort of gesture, nor did he fail to notice the malevolent glances Achmed leveled at the newcomer, which he seemed to be unaware of. But what had Jafar most concerned was the princess’s curious gaze that lingered a bit too long on the handsome prince.

The doors of the throne room closed behind them, leaving Jafar alone but for Iago, whose grumbling increased in volume from under his breath to a full-throated yell.

“What the heck is this place anyway? A bed and breakfast?! What does that no good little worm think he’s doin’ walkin’ in here without so much as an invitation? Now we got yet another problem, a big problem, Jafar! What’re we gonna do about _this_ one?”

Jafar’s hand clenched hard on his staff. “I think it’s time to say goodbye to Prince Abooboo.”


	24. Full House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, everyone. Life has been busy, and it's not looking like it will slow down anytime soon. Therefore, updates to this story will most likely continue to be slow, unfortunately. I really appreciate the reviews and comments of those who are still following. I know that I try your patience with my sporadic updates, but it means a lot to me that you are still reading and enjoying this story.
> 
> Thank you also to my beta, Magic713, who continues to do excellent work on this story despite being just as busy as I am. You're a star!
> 
> ln(♪)

Aladdin adjusted his turban as he strode toward the stables, violet cloak billowing behind him. Of all the roles he had played in his life, this one certainly required the most clothing. At first he had wondered how he was even going to be able to move in all this, but the genie must have done something, because he felt a bit more comfortable than he thought he should.

Comfortable in the clothes, that is. His comfort playing the role of Prince Ali was another matter entirely. He had expected this wish to be a hard one to pull off, but he hadn’t quite expected that it would _exhaust_ him like this, not physically but mentally—and emotionally.

Coming up with ways to curry favor with the Sultan were fairly easy. The man, thankfully, seemed easy to please, and was somehow already well-disposed towards Prince Ali.

Trying to find ways to misdirect and placate Jafar and Prince Achmed, on the other hand, was more difficult. They both seemed hell-bent on revealing some personal weakness of Prince Ali’s that they could use against him, which Aladdin supposed was reasonable—as far as Aladdin could make out, it was Jafar’s _job_ to be suspicious, and Achmed certainly didn’t want a rival.

But the hardest thing so far was facing Princess Jasmine. When Aladdin first laid eyes on her in the throne room, it took every ounce of his not inconsiderable self-control to restrain himself from doing something stupid, like run to her and embrace her, or cry, or even just let his mouth hang open like a total drooling idiot.

She was beautiful. She was still the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen, but he’d never seen her like this, in the palace. The finery of her surroundings only emphasized her own beauty. Her clothes were of the finest quality and cut, revealing quite a bit of her gleaming skin. She wore makeup on her face and Aladdin could smell her perfume from where he stood. Gold jewelry glittered on her ears and throat. Her hair was perfectly styled, and on it rested a tiara bearing a large blue gem.

Aladdin had always thought that there was something about her that looked like she didn’t belong on the dirty, dingy city streets. She shone out there, in places where beauty was hard to find, but here…

She looked like she belonged here.

Aladdin shook off those thoughts as he entered the stable and went straight to Abu’s stall. The genie had tried to change the monkey into an elephant, but Aladdin had convinced him to do a horse instead. In fact, the genie had attempted to give Aladdin a fabulous parade that would have put the most flamboyant of royals to shame, but Aladdin had persuaded him to tone it down a bit. Maybe Aladdin would have gone that route a few years ago, but he wasn’t trying to impress the princess now. No, he was going for a more mysterious vibe. He wanted to present himself as a bit of an enigma—that would pique her interest. Yes, let her try to figure him out, then every time she thought she was getting close, he would draw back. Let her chase him for a while, see what it feels like.

Abu whinnied when he saw Aladdin, and Aladdin smiled. 

“Hey, Abu, you miss me?” Abu snorted and stamped his foot. “Guess not.”

Abu started nosing at him, snuffling at his clothes. “Hold your horses, Abu, I’ve got your treat right here!” Aladdin held up an apple he’d concealed behind his back. Abu grunted his satisfaction, but accidently knocked the apple out of Aladdin’s hand when he lowered his head to take it. 

“Whoa there, I got it, boy. Haven’t got the hang of being a horse yet, have you? Now hold your head still and let me help.” Aladdin held the apple up to Abu’s mouth, where he could feel it. Abu took a bite and munched away, satisfied. Aladdin stroked the horse’s mane as he ate.

“I know you don’t really like being a horse, Abu, but it’s necessary.” Abu only glared back at him. “C’mon, Abu, if the princess or Jafar saw you, the ruse would be up. And it’s better than being an elephant.” Abu finished the apple and turned his back on Aladdin.

“All right, I see how it is. Look, if I get the genie to turn you back into a monkey, do you _promise_ to stay out of sight?” Abu let out a low neigh and tossed his head up and down several times to signify his agreement.

Aladdin sighed and looked around to be sure he was alone before removing his elaborate turban. He had decided on keeping the lamp there, both for safekeeping and easy access. He couldn’t risk leaving the lamp sitting around where Jafar might find it.

He rubbed the lamp and a puff of blue smoke and sparks later, the genie was standing before him—with a scrub brush and a yellow toy duck?

“Never fails, you get in the bath and there’s a rub at the lamp. Hello! Wow, second wish already? You’re going through ‘em fast!”

“No Genie, I just wondered if you could let Abu turn back into a monkey. He doesn’t really like being a horse.”

“I don’t know, pal. I might have to charge you extra for that one.”

“Please, Genie? I wished for me to be a prince, not for Abu to be a horse. That was your idea.”

“Hmmm,” the genie twirled his beard around his finger, thinking. Then three copies of himself wearing crisp, official-looking clothing popped up out of nowhere with long sheaves of paper and began poring over the documents and conferring with each other in murmurs that Aladdin couldn’t quite make out. The copies quickly seemed to come to a decision and one of them whispered in the real genie’s ear. “Kid, you make a solid argument for your case. After speaking with my attorneys, I’ve decided that your request is acceptable without the use of a wish.”

There was a popping sound and a puff of smoke, and Abu was a monkey again. When Abu realized this, he immediately began jumping up and down, shrieking his pleasure.

“Abu, shhh!” Aladdin moved to catch the ecstatic monkey. “You promised to lay low, remember?”

Abu immediately fell silent and instead showed his appreciation by glaring at Aladdin and streaking out of the stables into the dark.

“Abu!” Aladdin called out in a stage whisper, but Abu didn’t heed him. Aladdin sighed. “Great. I’m gonna have to find that little terror before he gets himself in trouble, and me along with him.”

“Hold on there,” the genie said, catching him by the cloak to stop him giving chase to Abu. “The monkey can take care of himself. You haven’t told me how your date with the little lady went yet, lover boy.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that your magic worked. Neither Jafar nor the princess recognized me.”

“Excuse me? Of course it worked; my magic is top-notch,” the genie said, a little affronted. “No one will recognize you until you want them to, like we agreed.” The genie leered at him. “What I want to know is how the wooing of your lady love is going!”

Aladdin rolled his eyes at the eager expression on the genie’s face. “Well, I don’t think I made a complete idiot of myself at least.”

“Come _on_ , Al, gimme the goods!”

“There’s not much to tell. I think she’s interested…”

“… _And?_ ”

Aladdin sighed. “And I really don’t have a chance with her,” he finished.

The genie frowned. “What’re you talkin’ about, Al? Of course you do! You’re Bachelor Number One, and your competition has nothin’ on you. You’re more handsome, charming, kind—”

“None of that really matters,” Aladdin muttered, waving away the genie’s words.

“Then what is it?”

Aladdin paused to think. He wasn’t sure how to express what he was feeling to the genie, wasn’t even sure he wanted to try. He was growing to like the strange being quite a lot, but he wasn’t sure the genie would understand.

Seeing the princess today had been like receiving a punch to the gut. He looked at her and he couldn’t breathe with the force of his longing for her. And then she’d turned and introduced him to Prince Achmed. Prince Achmed! The only other royalty Aladdin had ever had the misfortune to meet was right there with the love of Aladdin’s life on his arm. It was a slap in the face to see them together like that, to know that Yas—that Princess Jasmine was sizing him up all evening, comparing him to the odious man that had struck Aladdin down at their last encounter.

Maybe Aladdin wasn’t being quite fair—after all, Jasmine didn’t recognize him, she couldn’t have. But even so, how could she even consider marrying Prince Achmed? He’d told her the story of what Achmed had done to him and what he’d tried to do to the children. Did she forget? Did she not care?

“I don’t understand her,” he finally said to the genie.

“She’s a woman, how could you possibly understand her?” the genie laughed.

Aladdin ignored him. “She told me before that she ran away because she didn’t want to get married to a person that didn’t care about her. She didn’t want to marry a man who just saw her as a means to an end. She risked her very life to escape from that and spent years living in poverty to avoid going back. She told me she loved me and wanted to spend the rest of her life with me, but when I asked her to marry me, she refused. And now she’s back home in her palace, all set to marry a prince who clearly only wants to marry her for her wealth and power, when she went to such great lengths before to avoid just that!”

“Hmm, I admit that’s a bit more incomprehensible than the usual standard for women.”

Aladdin shook his head, trying to clear it. This whole situation was messing with his mind. Maybe seeing the princess again had been a mistake after all. Watching her tonight…She clearly belonged here and he—well, he didn’t.

Princess Jasmine was courting Achmed because he was a prince. The princess was only giving Prince Ali the time of day because she thought he was a prince too. Aladdin had a sudden vision of himself dressed in his regular clothes, going to the palace to court the princess. The idea of standing barefoot in his ragged, threadbare clothing before the beautiful princess in her gilded palace was laughable.

Aladdin remembered very well Prince Achmed’s parting words to him at their last encounter. _“You are a worthless street rat. You were born a street rat, you will die a street rat, and only your fleas will mourn you!”_ Maybe there was something to that after all. The way Jasmine was acting—what was he supposed to make of that?

“Maybe she’s changed her mind,” Aladdin muttered. “Heck, maybe I never even really knew her. Maybe I just saw what I wanted to.”

The genie flashed a red sign across his chest. “Whoa there! Let’s not jump the gun, lover boy! You only just had one date with the girl. Maybe you should wait and see how things progress. I mean, this is a stealth mission, right? You need to go deeper, kid.” The genie changed so he was dressed in a black coat and hat, with dark glasses and an obviously fake black mustache.

Aladdin took a deep breath. “You’re right, genie. I’ve come this far; I’m not gonna quit now.”

The genie cheered, and Aladdin set his shoulders. He was going to stick it out and get what he came for.

The only problem was that he wasn’t so sure what it was he should want anymore.

♣ ♦ ♥ ♠ ♣

Jasmine was discovering that Prince Ali was an entirely different man from Prince Achmed. This would have been reassuring if he wasn’t just as frustrating in his own unique way.

Prince Ali had asked her to walk with him in the garden, and she had agreed. She really should make an effort to get to know him even if she didn’t much want to. He was her only other option besides Prince Achmed, and hopefully a better one, but so far she wasn’t too sure.

They had made small talk so far, nothing too personal, which was reassuring and concerning at the same time. On the one hand, Jasmine didn’t really want to share anything of a personal nature with him or anyone right now, but the fact that he wasn’t volunteering information either might mean that he was also uninterested in sharing.

In fact, Jasmine was sure that he was hiding something. Oh, the man was polite and charming enough, and he had even made her laugh twice already, but she didn’t trust him. At least with Prince Achmed she knew exactly what she was buying. Prince Ali was harder to read.

At the moment the prince was telling her about his journey to Agrabah. From the sound of it, he had traveled quite far. He had just finished an amusing story about his horse refusing to let him mount when he turned to her and asked, “Have you ever traveled, princess?”

“I have, a bit,” Jasmine replied. “I’ve been to several of the cities to the north of Agrabah.”

“That’s a difficult crossing,” he said as he offered his hand to her to help her up the steps of a gazebo. “How did you find desert travel?”

“Sandy,” she said, as she took his hand and he led her under the shade. He smiled at her, amused, and Jasmine caught herself thinking that it was a very nice smile. “To be honest, the sand was even more irritating than the heat. I never knew it could get into so many places.”

“Oh yes, the sand is amazing for that,” said the prince. “I’m sorry, though. It sounds as though your travels were quite tiresome.”

Jasmine shook her head. “No, not always,” she said, looking away from the prince out over the garden pond. “The landscape can be quite breathtaking, don’t you think? The contrast of the hot sand against the cloudless blue sky, and the way the wind blows the sand over the dunes…” Jasmine’s voice softened as she remembered. “And the sunsets are often so lovely. It’s a beautiful moment at the end of a long day to share with…someone.”

She looked over to find the prince watching her with something almost like wistfulness. When she met his eyes, he cleared his throat and looked away. “I suppose you’re right,” he murmured. “The desert has its charms as well.”

In that moment Prince Ali seemed more open than she had thus far seen him, so Jasmine decided to take a chance and ask him something that had been on her mind.

“Why did you come to Agrabah? Did you really travel so far just to come court me?”

The prince gazed out over the pond for a long moment with a considering look on his face. Jasmine thought he might withdraw from the question, but when he turned back to her his face and posture were still open. He looked her in the eye and said, “Have you ever felt that you just need to…get away from everything you’ve ever known in order to get perspective on what it is you really want?”

Jasmine was surprised. “I have,” she answered, and then more softly said, “More than you know.”

Prince Ali only nodded. “That’s part of the reason I made this journey. I wanted to see what I could do, what I was capable of, how far I could go.” He smiled. “But I also came for you, princess.”

This time the man’s smile was genuine, Jasmine could see it. But she didn’t understand why there was so much sadness in it.

Jasmine opened her mouth to respond, when she heard a loud, high-pitched noise. She and the prince both turned toward the source of the commotion, and Jasmine saw a little brown monkey streaking across the garden toward them, shrieking its head off. The little demon made a beeline straight for Jasmine, who gasped in surprise when it latched onto her leg and started clawing its way up her skirt. 

Before she could make a move to dislodge it, Prince Ali seized the creature and pulled it off her, quickly restraining its hands and feet while it jabbered and tried in vain to bite him.

Jasmine smoothed out her skirt, checking that nothing was torn, grateful for the prince’s quick intervention. “Thank you, Prince Ali,” she said glancing up at him, and then froze. Her eyes widened in recognition.

“Abu?” she said, looking more closely at the monkey. It had been nearly two years since she’d seen him, but she was sure this was him. He was a bit thinner than she remembered, and his fur seemed patchier, but his face was the same, with the same wide, dark eyes. “Abu, is that you?”

The monkey squawked and whimpered, holding her gaze. Jasmine reached out for him. “It’s all right, your highness. Let me take him.” Prince Ali released the creature and he jumped into Jasmine’s arms, cuddling up to her immediately.

“Abu, it really is you!” Jasmine exclaimed. “What are you doing here? How did you get into the garden? Where are—“

Suddenly Abu leaped out of her grasp and tugged on the hem of her skirt, then ran away out of the gazebo to the path beyond. There he stopped and turned to look at her, then shrieked once, cocking his head to one side.

“I do believe he wants me to follow him,” Jasmine said to the prince beside her, who was observing this display with something like bemusement on his features.

“Will you?” he asked, his tone of voice light as though he did not care what she decided.

“Yes,” she said, then hesitated before she continued. “You may come along, if you wish.” She wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to take her up on the offer or not.

The man smiled, and now she caught an edge of mischief in his grin that made something in her belly flutter. “An adventure to parts unknown with a monkey as our guide? Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, and he offered her his arm.

Jasmine took it without hesitation.

♣ ♠ ♥ ♦ ♠

Jasmine and Prince Ali had been following Abu for only about twenty minutes and already she was lost. She really hoped Abu knew where he was going because she certainly didn’t. Upon entering the palace, they had immediately found a hidden door that led to the servants’ corridors. Jasmine knew that the servant corridors existed of course, but she had never actually been in there. She was surprised by how extensive they were. There must have been miles of hidden passages that wound throughout the palace.

“So this monkey—he’s not yours?” Prince Ali asked her as they walked.

“No, he belonged to a friend,” Jasmine said, hoping the prince wouldn’t ask her too many questions about it.

“Then what is it doing here? Does this friend just let the monkey run amok?”

“Well, my friend gave his monkey away to someone else a while ago. I haven’t seen Abu in years. I don’t know what he’s doing here.” Jasmine figured this was true enough without going into details. She did _not_ want to discuss Aladdin with Prince Ali. At all. Ever.

Abu, meanwhile, seemed to be leading them down, and on one occasion took them through yet another hidden door that led to a tunnel that was far less prepossessing than even the servants’ corridors. It was quite a bit darker here, the only light coming from wall sconces that were placed too far apart, making the downward slope of the floor treacherous. The stone in this place was damp with mildew and exuded a chill that made Jasmine shiver. Prince Ali must have felt it, because he looked at her with a distinctly worried expression.

“Do you know where we are?” he asked her, his voice unexpectedly tense.

“No idea,” Jasmine replied. “Do you?”

The prince was silent for a moment, his face set in a frown. “I think I might have a notion,” he muttered.

Before Jasmine could ask him to explain, they rounded another corner and found themselves facing a dead end.

“Abu, what is this?” said Jasmine to the monkey, who was patiently waiting for them next to the wall blocking their way. “Why did you bring us _here?_ ” Abu only jumped up and down, jabbering excitedly.

Jasmine was disappointed. She wasn’t sure what kind of game Abu was playing, but they couldn’t go any farther this way. She was about to scold the monkey when Prince Ali dropped her arm so that he could approach the wall. Jasmine watched, perplexed, as he examined the wall, sometimes touching one area or another, until finally he placed a hand on a stone near the center and pushed.

To Jasmine’s great surprise, the stone depressed under the pressure of Prince Ali’s hand, and the whole wall slid to the side and out of sight with a low rumble.

The prince turned and evidently saw Jasmine’s amazement, because he flashed that mischievous grin again. “Your highness,” he said, bowing to her in imitation of a doorman.

“How did you know how to do that?” Jasmine said, a little in awe, as she moved forward to try to see where the wall had gone.

Prince Ali shrugged. “You just have to know what to look for,” he said, and offered her his arm once again. Jasmine smiled and slipped her arm in his.

As they entered the corridor beyond, Jasmine felt the temperature drop even further, if that was possible. Although it might not have been the temperature that was making chills run up and down her spine. The place they had just entered was dank and even darker than the hall they had just quitted. Even so, she could still make out rusted chains hanging from the ceiling and that the hall was lined with heavy wooden doors with iron bars set into them. Jasmine could hear rustling and the distant drip of water. She tightened her grip on Prince Ali’s arm.

“Ali, I think we might be—”

“—In the dungeons? I think that quite likely, princess,” he answered. He kept his voice light, but Jasmine could tell it was forced. “Do you want to go back?”

Jasmine looked around for Abu and saw the monkey further down the corridor. He was staring at her, head cocked to one side. When he was sure she was paying attention to him, he turned and disappeared down the hall, into the darkness.

Jasmine let out a shaky breath and steeled herself. “I want to keep going,” she said. Prince Ali could go back if he wanted, but Jasmine wanted to find out what Abu was up to. She hoped he’d stay though. She really didn’t want to be alone down here.

Prince Ali said nothing more about leaving however, only started forward down the corridor with a murmured warning to her to watch her step.

Jasmine made a pointed effort to look straight ahead or down as much as possible. She kept herself from looking into the cells they passed. She didn’t want to see what it looked like, or meet the eyes of any prisoners. She tried not to think about where they were, but she couldn’t help it. This is where Aladdin had spent his last day alive. They had chained him and locked him up in this horrible place before killing him. Jasmine felt tears starting at the corners of her eyes and she forced herself to push all thoughts of her dead lover away. Tears were useless, and she couldn’t afford to show weakness in front of Prince Ali.

By then all Jasmine wanted was to find Abu and get the hell out of there, but the monkey was nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t have gone far though…

Suddenly there was a rustling noise very nearby. Jasmine clutched Prince Ali’s arm. “What was that? Did you hear that?”

“Yes, I did,” said the prince. “It’s probably just—”

There was a high-pitched squeaking noise and two rats burst from a hole in the wall and ran right under their feet and away down the hall. Jasmine tightened her grip on the prince’s arm for a moment until she realized they weren’t in any danger. She sighed in relief. “Oh good, it’s just rats.”

She looked over to find Prince Ali trying to hide a smile. “What?” she said, hoping he wasn’t laughing at her for being scared of the rats.

He shook his head. “I don’t know of many princesses that would be relieved to find that there are rats lurking nearby.”

Jasmine smiled as well. “I guess not. Even my ladies in waiting are scared of rats.”

“But not you.”

Jasmine only shrugged. “There are worse things to be afraid of.”

“Too true.”

Unfortunately, the conversation had got Jasmine wondering if Aladdin had been afraid down here in the dungeon. Had he known at the time that he had only a day left to live? Had he waited for her to come help him, to get him out? Jasmine could not suppress a shudder at the thought of her complete and utter failure to save him.

Prince Ali glanced at her. “Are you cold, princess?” He unfastened his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. Jasmine hadn’t noticed how cold she was until the cloak, still warm from the prince’s body, was around her. She had grown so accustomed to the cold desert nights during her years of travel that she was used to pushing her discomfort to the back of her mind. 

The warm cloak was very welcome though. She smiled at the prince. “Thank you.”

He grinned back, then offered his arm to her so they could continue their journey. “I sure know how to show a lady a good time, don’t I? Dark dungeons, rats, bitter cold…The perfect first date, in my book.”

Jasmine glanced at him archly. “Do you take all the girls to underground hellholes, or am I special?”

Prince Ali’s smile widened. “I can safely say you’re the first I’ve treated to this particular brand of courtship.”

“The walking by torchlight is a rather romantic touch.”

“You think so? I suppose it does tick the ‘soft lighting’ box. Really brings out the irritation in your eyes.”

“Speaking of irritation, where did that monkey get to? I thought we would’ve caught up to him by now.”

No sooner had she said it did Jasmine hear a familiar chattering as Abu bounded back down the corridor and tugged on Jasmine’s skirt, urging her on. “Abu, there you are!” She reached for him, but the monkey danced out of her grasp, still chittering. “Abu, come on, we need to go. We really shouldn’t be down here.”

Abu didn’t seem to be listening to her. He hopped from one foot to the other, squawking, then turned and raced back down the corridor, turning to face them once he was almost out of sight and jumping up and down in agitation.

Jasmine sighed and turned to Prince Ali. “Will you help me catch him? I don’t know what game he’s playing, but we really should go and I don’t want to leave him down here.”

The prince nodded his agreement and they started slowly toward the monkey so as not to spook him. Jasmine tried to speak calmly to him, encouraging the little creature to stay put while they came closer. “All right, Abu, we’re coming. Just stay right there. We’re almost there…”

Abu, surprisingly, allowed them to come right up to him, but once they had come within a few feet, he backed up and flattened himself against one of the many doors that lined the corridor. He had finally ceased chattering, but Jasmine could see that he was now shaking.

“Abu, what’s wrong?” she said as she bent and slowly reached for him. But Abu only pushed her hand away, looking up at her with eyes begging her for something. She didn’t understand. It appeared that Abu had led them to the end of the journey, but there was nothing here.

“Princess,” she heard Prince Ali say above her, “I think you should see this.” His voice carried a note of urgency that made Jasmine look up sharply. Prince Ali was standing near the door and looking through the bars at whatever was inside the cell. His eyes were wide with shock.

All of a sudden, a painful hope sparked in Jasmine’s heart. Could it be that Aladdin was on the other side of this door? Could he really be here, and not dead as she had thought? She looked back at Abu. What other reason could there be for the inexplicable reappearance of Aladdin’s monkey, who had immediately led her straight to this cell in the dungeon?

Jasmine was suddenly paralyzed with anxiety. She didn’t feel she could look in the cell for fear that she was wrong, but she couldn’t _not_ if she was right.

“What is it?” she whispered, her quavering voice barely audible.

The prince did not answer nor take his eyes away from what was inside the cell, only reached down to gently grasp her arm and draw her up beside him. She kept her eyes on his bloodless face for a moment, then, heart in her throat, she forced herself to look at what was in the cell.

It wasn’t him.

The sight that greeted her was much worse.


	25. Queen of Clubs

At first Jasmine wasn’t sure what she was seeing inside the cell. It seemed that two small, ragged bundles of cloth lay half-buried in a bed of dirty straw. Then one of the bundles moved, and Jasmine saw it raise a thin, stick-like arm to bring the other, smaller one closer. She looked into two pairs of dark, haunted eyes staring out at her through the bars.

Jasmine gasped in sudden recognition. Tears sprang to her eyes as she clamped one shaking hand over her mouth to physically hold back the sobs that threatened. She knew those eyes, knew those children.

It was Najida and Rami.

“Is this how you treat children in Agrabah?” Prince Ali’s voice was as cold as the dungeon stone, and his face was set and hard.

His anger and disgust shook Jasmine from her shock just enough to galvanize her into action. She reached for the handle of the heavy wooden door and yanked on it with all her might. The bolt clanged in its housing, but held firm. She rattled the lock, pulling at the handle over and over again, tears of frustration flowing unchecked down her face.

At the sound of the bolt clanging, the children in the cell started in fear and huddled against the wall as far from the door as they could get. Jasmine wanted to reassure them, to tell them that she would get them out if it was the last thing she did, but her throat was too tight with repressed rage to speak. She was on the point of beating the door with her bare fists when she felt strong hands on her shoulders, pulling her back. Jasmine whirled around, hands raised to push the man away, but she was halted by his firm yet gentle grip capturing her wrists.

“Stop, Jasmine. Let me help you.” The prince’s eyes were serious and his face was set in determination. Jasmine recognized his sincerity and stepped aside as he knelt before the door and extracted a tool from inside his robes. He inserted the end of the tool into the lock and fiddled with it for what seemed like forever to Jasmine but was really only a minute before the lock slid back and the door swung open.

Heart in her throat, Jasmine did not even spare the prince a thank you before rushing into the cell. She stopped short though when she saw the naked terror on the children’s faces as they clutched at each other. Jasmine forced herself to take a breath and slow down. She had frightened them with the noise and the fuss she was making. She had to remind them of who she was. She had to be gentle.

“Najida? Rami? Please don’t be afraid,” Jasmine said, wishing she could stop her voice from shaking. “I’m here to help you. Don’t you remember me?”

It was Najida who recognized her first. “Yasmin?” she whispered, her tentative voice wavering in the stillness. Jasmine nodded, unable to speak for the moment. The confusion on the girl’s face melted into awe. “Yasmin!” she said again, and reached for her.

Jasmine could not keep herself apart from them any longer. In three quick strides she had crossed the rest of the cell and dropped to her knees, gathering the two children into her arms. She felt them clinging to her and heard them whimper as she kissed their heads, murmuring reassurances through her tears.

“Hush now, it’s going to be all right, darlings. I’m going to take you out of here. No one will hurt you, I promise. It’ll be all right now. It’s going to be all right, shhh…”

She felt Abu jump up on her shoulder. Jasmine put one hand up to scratch behind his ears. “You’ve been watching over them, haven’t you,” she whispered to the little monkey. He chittered at her in response. “Thank you, Abu.”

She held the children close to her for long minutes before she calmed enough to dry her eyes and think what to do next. She pulled away just enough to look at the children’s faces, gazing up at her with a kind of dazed awe.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” she said, giving them a watery smile.

The children shifted on the straw, and Jasmine heard a rattling noise. She looked down and saw for the first time that the children wore manacles around their ankles that chained them to the wall. Jasmine took a deep breath as she struggled to control the wave of anger that swept over her again. This was wrong, so wrong, on so many levels. She would need to find the key to free them…

“I can help with that,” said Prince Ali, whom Jasmine had nearly forgotten about. He raised the lock pick he still held, and Jasmine sighed in relief. The man approached, lock pick in hand, but stopped dead when the children shrank back in fear, curling in on themselves and away from him. Rami even hid his face in his sister’s skirts.

Jasmine immediately moved to calm the children, petting their heads and whispering reassurances that the man meant them no harm. She glanced up at the prince to find an unguarded expression of sorrow on his face, eyes full of some ineffable pain, though his voice was steady as he spoke.

“There’s no need to be afraid, children. I’m here to help,” he said softly. “I’m a friend of…of Yasmin.” Jasmine nodded her head and smiled at the children in encouragement, and when Prince Ali stepped forward again, they remained still.

The prince bent down and with gentle hands he released the lock on Najida’s manacles. When the cuffs came off to reveal the skin chafed raw and red beneath, Jasmine had to blink back tears and take another deep breath to stop herself from breaking down again. Rami’s turn was next, and though the prince had offered him no harm, she noticed that the boy still clutched at his sister’s hand when Ali touched him.

The manacles removed, Jasmine helped them to their feet. It was soon clear to her from the way Najida winced and Rami stumbled that they would need help getting out of the dungeon. She picked Rami up and settled him on her hip, wrapping Ali’s cloak around him. He barely weighed anything at all.

“Can you help Najida?” she asked, turning to Ali. “I’ve got this guy.” 

Ali simply nodded and approached the girl cautiously, waiting until she took his hand on her own accord to hoist her up into his arms. “You ready to get out of here?” he asked her, smiling, and she smiled a little back at him and nodded. Abu jumped up on Ali’s shoulder, chattering, and Jasmine was a bit surprised when he let the monkey perch there. Ali met Jasmine’s eyes and she nodded back, ready to go. Then he turned and led the way out of the tiny cell.

The way back to the palace seemed interminable to Jasmine. She supposed she hadn’t realized how long the walk had been until she was making it with a little boy in her arms. Though he wasn’t heavy, she supposed the burden weighed more on her heart than anywhere else. How had the two children ended up in the dungeons? She longed to know, but she needed to get them to a safe place first before she started questioning them.

Ali managed to lead them back to the servants’ passages and through the main kitchen area, where they had the misfortune of bumping into the steward. He was rather taken aback, to say the least, at the sight of the prince and princess with two ragged children and a monkey in tow.

“Princess! What is—Can I…help you with anything?” The man’s eyes were practically bugging out with shock.

Jasmine chose to ignore the reason for the man’s consternation entirely, and decided to take him up on his offer of help, since he was already there.

“Yes, you can. I would like water heated for two baths brought up to my chambers, as well as some broth and crackers. Send Fatima to attend me in my rooms and send word to the royal physician that I want to see him as well.”

The man bowed with a hasty, “Yes, right away, your highness,” and scurried off to do her bidding, while Jasmine and her strange little party continued up to her rooms.

Rami stirred in her arms, and Jasmine looked down to find his wide, dark eyes looking up at her.

“Are you really a princess?” the little boy whispered. Out of the corner of her eye, Jasmine saw Najida turn her head towards them to listen.

“Yes, Rami, I’m a princess,” she told him.

The boy scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Was you always a princess?”

Jasmine smiled. “Yes, Rami.”

“Even when you was livin’ on the streets?”

Jasmine’s step faltered a moment. “I—yes, I suppose I was a princess even then.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

She grinned at him. “That’s okay, Rami. No one knew that I was a princess.”

“Not even Aladdin?”

This time Jasmine froze. It took her a moment to gather herself and keep moving, fully aware that Prince Ali was right next to her and listening to everything they said.

“No.”

“Where is Aladdin?”

“…He’s not here, Rami.” The boy opened his mouth to ask another question, but she stroked his head and shushed him. “Don’t worry about anything now, sweetie. Do you know where we’re going?” The child shook his head. “We’re almost to my rooms, and when we get there, you’re going to have a bath.” She almost laughed at the tiny pout that formed on the little boy’s face at that news.

They arrived at her chambers not a minute later, and Jasmine turned to the man beside her. “Thank you for your help, Prince Ali. Will I see you later tonight at the evening meal?”

The prince nodded. “I expect you will, princess.” He then looked down at the girl in his arms. “This is your stop, milady,” he said, smiling at her. “It was so very nice to meet you, and Rami as well.” He set her down carefully, and guided her to lean against Jasmine for support. He bowed low to the trio, causing Abu to jump from his shoulder and run to Najida’s instead, then turned and strode away down the hall.

Jasmine watched him go until she felt a tug on her skirt. She looked down and met Najida’s eyes. “Who was that?” the little girl whispered.

Jasmine ushered the children into her room as she answered. “That is Prince Ali. He’s visiting me from a kingdom very far away.”

Rami’s eyes widened. “He’s a prince? Really?”

Jasmine smiled at him. “You didn’t know you had so many friends among royalty, did you?”

“I like him. Are you good friends, Yasmin? I mean, Princess Jasmine.” Najida was still hanging on to Jasmine’s skirt, so Jasmine set Rami down on the settee and helped Najida up next to him while she pondered her answer. She heard the door open and turned to see that it was only Fatima bringing in a platter with the food she’d ordered.

“Not really,” she finally said, taking bowls of broth from her handmaiden and placing them in the children’s laps, hoping they would stop questioning her and eat. “I only just met him a day ago.”

“Why did he come to visit you?”

Jasmine nearly sighed aloud. So much for the food being a distraction. “He came to visit me because he wants to ask me to marry him,” she answered as she handed Abu a cracker.

Najida’s eyes were as large as the bowl she held in her hands. “Are you going to marry him, Princess Jasmine?”

“I haven’t decided yet. And you can just call me Jasmine, dear, there’s no need for titles.”

Rami slurped at his broth before lowering the bowl from his face. He had foregone the use of his spoon in favor of simply drinking straight from the bowl, but Jasmine couldn’t care less about this breach in etiquette. “I thought you were gonna marry Aladdin,” the little boy said, wiping his mouth on his dirty sleeve.

Jasmine’s heart clenched. How was she going to tell the children about what had happened to their protector? She couldn’t, not right now anyway. They needed a bath and some real rest first.

She directed Fatima to the next room to prepare the baths, and once the girl had gone she turned back to the children with a few questions of her own.

What she discovered made her want to tear her hair out with rage. The children had been in the dungeon almost two years—the whole time she and Aladdin had been gone. Jafar, that disgusting, vile excuse for a man, had locked them up for associating with her, and for withholding information they didn’t even have.

As angry as she was with Jafar, and he would be feeling her ire soon enough, she was almost as angry with herself. They should never have left the children behind. She should have known they wouldn’t be safe. They should have taken the kids with them when they left the city…into the desert…where she and Aladdin had almost died… No, there must have been a better way to protect them. Something better than giving them a pet monkey and wishing them luck anyway.

A wave of guilt rushed over her, swamping her as she helped Fatima bathe the children. This was all her fault, wasn’t it? Aladdin was dead, the children were in prison, and all because they had been her friends.

But Jafar was the one who had done this. Jafar was truly evil, and he had to be stopped. If he could execute an innocent man and imprison harmless children, what else was he capable of? What else had he already done? Someone had to put a stop to this.

Jasmine realized with sudden clarity that it had to be her. She had to be the one to stop him. Her father was blinded by his trust in his Royal Vizier—by the time he realized how dangerous Jafar is, it would be too late. She was the only other person who had the power to go against him, so she had the responsibility to do something about this. She alone could make sure he didn’t hurt anyone else.

She had a responsibility to right the wrongs Jafar had done. She had a responsibility to the people of Agrabah, and to the two children who had suffered so much. She had a responsibility to her father, whom she had abandoned.

She had a responsibility to Aladdin.

She would bring Jafar down if it was the last thing she did.

♣

The children and the monkey were asleep in her bed and Jasmine was helping Fatima clean up when her handmaid turned to her and said, “Princess, might I ask you a question?”

Jasmine shook herself from her thoughts about the physician’s advice regarding the children. He had been impressed at Jasmine’s care of them, especially her decision to give them only light food. He’d asked her how she knew what to do, and she’d told him that she’d seen many cases of malnutrition over the last two years. Her matter-of-fact statement had seemed to fluster the man for some reason.

“Yes, Fatima, what is it?” she answered.

“It’s…kind of a personal question,” the girl said, hesitating.

“Well, if it’s too personal, I just won’t answer,” Jasmine smiled at her.

Fatima grinned back, reassured. “It’s about something I heard you tell the children, your highness.” When Jasmine nodded, she continued. “Have you really not decided who you’ll marry?” she asked in a rush.

Jasmine sighed. “Not you too. Don’t I get enough pressure from the men in this palace?”

Fatima’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, princess! I didn’t mean to press you! I was just curious.”

Jasmine gave her a weak smile. “That’s all right, Fatima. No, I really haven’t decided yet. And I’m very aware how little time I have left to choose.”

Fatima pursed her lips. “Oh…”

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Fatima glanced at her, then looked away. “Well, begging your pardon, your highness, but I thought for sure you’d choose Prince Ali.”

Jasmine frowned. “Why did you think that?”

“Princess, isn’t he the obvious choice? Prince Ali is much younger and _handsomer_ than Prince Achmed.”

Fatima’s simplistic, naïve view of the matter surprised a genuine laugh out of Jasmine. She remembered with a start that she used to talk with Fatima about these things. Fatima had been about the closest thing she had to a friend before she ran away, and Jasmine realized now that she had missed that, these last weeks. She’d missed talking, missed having a friend. She’d missed Fatima, too, since running away. It would probably do her some good to actually talk with Fatima a bit, instead of shutting her out as she’d done with everyone since she’d returned to the palace.

“As handsome as Prince Ali is, Fatima, there are other things that I, as a princess, have to consider when choosing a husband,” said Jasmine, still smiling.

“There is something about Prince Ali you don’t like, princess?”

“No, it’s just that…I don’t know him very well.”

“You barely know Prince Achmed either, your highness,” Fatima pointed out.

“Oh, I know Achmed well enough,” Jasmine replied. “He’s not very hard to figure out. I know what kind of man he is and what he wants from me. But Ali… He’s more of a mystery.”

“Really?” Jasmine could clearly see that Fatima’s interest was piqued. “He’s mysterious?” Jasmine remembered now that Fatima had always been a romantic at heart. She’d always wanted details about the princes that came to court her and was always disappointed when Jasmine drove them off so quickly.

“Yes, mysterious. Although that might not be the best word…” Jasmine thought for a moment. “I suppose the biggest mystery is that I’m not quite sure what he wants.”

Fatima’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t marriage what he wants?”

Jasmine smiled again. “Well, yes, but what I meant was what he wants from _me_.”

Fatima still looked confused, so Jasmine tried to elaborate. “Take Achmed, for example. I know exactly what he wants from me. His main goal is to make a political alliance through marriage. So what he expects from me is simple: he wants a dutiful wife and queen who will bear him many sons. He may not love me, but he doesn’t expect me to love him either. But Ali… there’s something about him that makes me think that he wants more than just a political alliance, or a dutiful wife. I think maybe…he wants me to at least try to love him.”

“But princess, isn’t that a good thing? Isn’t that what you always wanted?” Fatima had stopped cleaning and was looking at Jasmine with concern.

Jasmine sank down onto the chaise lounge. “Yes, I used to want that,” she said quietly. “Then I found out how risky it is.”

“Princess?”

Jasmine sighed and looked down at her hands, fiddling with a throw pillow on her lap. “I don’t know if…whether I can fall in love with a stranger anymore. I don’t even know if I want to try.” She paused and huffed a humorless laugh. “Prince Achmed would be the safer choice in that respect. I know what to expect from him and what he expects from me, and love is not one of those things. It would certainly make things easier.”

“But…would you be happy like that, your highness?”

“Happy? No, I suppose not. But I’m not sure I can be happy in any case. I certainly don’t deserve it.” Jasmine clenched her hands on the pillow as she finally admitted aloud what she had felt ever since Aladdin’s death.

The room was silent for a moment, then Jasmine heard the rustle of Fatima’s skirt as she approached and knelt before her. The handmaiden took her mistress’s hands in hers.

“Your highness, I know that you have been unhappy ever since you returned. It pains me to see how unhappy you are. It makes me wish I could do something to help you, but I can only tell you what I see. I’ve known you for most of your life, your highness, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you are a good person.” 

Jasmine looked away at Fatima’s declaration, unable to stand the sincerity in the girl’s eyes. “You _are_ ,” Fatima continued, squeezing Jasmine’s hands in hers, “and you do deserve to be happy.” Jasmine glanced back at Fatima and found her smiling softly at her. “You deserve love, princess.”

Jasmine’s throat had closed upon itself, and she could not respond. Instead, she freed her hands from Fatima’s and slid off the chaise onto her knees before her, bringing her arms around her handmaiden in an embrace.

♣

As Jasmine neared the throne room on her way to tell her father about her very eventful day, she heard raised voices coming from inside. She lingered behind the curtain that covered the archway into the throne room so that she could listen to what was being said without being noticed. She recognized Jafar’s voice as the one currently speaking.

“…showed complete disregard for the laws of the sultanate by doing this. You must take action in this, your highness. Such behavior is blatantly disrespectful, not to mention dangerous.”

“For what it’s worth, your majesty, I agree wholeheartedly with Jafar.” Prince Achmed’s nasal tone was next. “Sneaking around your dungeons and freeing prisoners is a terrible offense. You detained me for much less than that; I was only a suspect and proven innocent. This man is, by his own admission, guilty.”

“And what were those two little children guilty of?” Prince Ali’s voice held an undercurrent of anger that Jasmine had never heard there before. “What could they have possibly done that warranted almost two years in the dungeons? They were starved and chained to the wall! Is this how children are treated in Agrabah?”

“How dare you ask his majesty such impertinent questions!” Jafar hissed. “You are the one on trial for breaking the law. You are the one at fault here. You have no right—”

“My own rights do not concern me—”

“Obviously,” Achmed snorted.

“—but I am concerned about the rights of those two children. What about their rights? Is there no justice in Agrabah?”

“You seem to be under the impression that these children are innocent,” said Achmed.

“If they are guilty, then what is their crime? I have not heard that they’ve done anything wrong at all,” replied Ali.

“Is not their presence in the _dungeons_ enough for you?” Achmed’s voice was laden with scorn. “They are in prison for a reason.”

“And what is that reason?” Ali asked again.

“You presume much, boy, to question the Sultan of Agrabah.” Jafar’s tone had turned nasty. “You have no right to demand answers—”

“You are correct, Jafar, that Prince Ali has no right to demand answers about anything to do with Agrabah’s prisons.” The Sultan’s voice was calm, but Jasmine could hear that her father was working hard to keep it so. “I, however, have every right to demand them. Until this moment, I was unaware that we had children among the prisoners. The matter was never set before me, so I must assume that it was you who gave the order for their arrest and detention. So enlighten me: what were the charges against these two children?”

There was a pause before Jafar spoke again. “Your highness, as your Royal Vizier, I have the power to arrest and imprison enemies of the state. The prisoners in question are known associates of criminals, including the thief that kidnapped the princess. Naturally, when I became aware of the identity of the princess’s kidnapper, I brought them in for questioning. They were not forthcoming with information, so I had them sent to the dungeon in hopes that they would soon change their minds and tell me what I needed to know to find your daughter.”

“I see.” Jasmine did not need to see her father’s face to know that he was not mollified by Jafar’s explanation. “Did it never occur to you that these children may not have known anything, and therefore had no useful information to divulge?”

“I admit that perhaps I was a bit overzealous, but finding the princess was absolutely vital. I thought it likely that the prisoners had information I needed to find her. If they had spoken, I might have found your daughter much sooner and spared everyone much grief, my lord.”

“And now that the princess is back where she belongs, why do you continue to detain these children?”

“Your highness, I think we are getting too far away from the more crucial issue here. I will be more than happy to answer any further questions you have about the prisoners in private; such things do not concern our guests. What is of vital importance at this moment is that this man, a guest in your palace, has slipped past the guards to infiltrate your dungeons and free two prisoners of the crown. The age and crime of the prisoners he freed is of no import; he could have just as easily freed any prisoner he wanted. This is a serious offence, your majesty.”

“That’s right,” Achmed trumpeted. “Such doings are the actions of a spy, or worse. You have protested against the guilt of these child prisoners loud and long, Prince Ali. Now, how do you protest your own guilt?”

“I do not answer to you, sir,” Ali replied coolly. “In fact, I don’t see how this matter concerns you at all. As we are both guests of the Sultan, it is not for me to speak against your involvement if that is what his majesty wishes. But the Sultan is the only one I will speak to.”

“Then speak, Prince Ali.” The Sultan sounded strained. “You have been accused of espionage and jail-breaking. You yourself have admitted that you entered the dungeon, where you had no business, and freed the children. Why did you do this?”

“The princess Jasmine asked me to accompany her.”

“The _princess_ asked you to take her to the _dungeon?_ ” Achmed’s voice was rife with disbelief.

Ali continued as though he had not been interrupted. “We did not intend to go to the dungeons, but as we were wandering the palace we came upon a passage that led us there. As we were looking for a way back out, we came upon the cell with the two children inside. The princess was moved by their plight, and I confess that I too was quite concerned when I saw the terrible conditions they were in. The princess wanted to free them, so I helped her do it.”

Jasmine noticed that Ali did not mention Abu in his explanation of events, nor that she knew the children already. She wondered why and was glad of it at the same time. Perhaps Ali had sensed that the scene he had witnessed in the dungeon was something private that she did not wish to be shared with just anyone.

“This is obviously a lie, your highness, concocted so that he would have an alibi in the event that he should be discovered,” Jafar scoffed. “The princess would never ask to go to the dungeon. He must have led her there or convinced her to go with him somehow. We both know how poor the princess’s judgement is, even when it comes to such a clearly bad idea as this.”

Jasmine barely had time to summon up indignation on her own behalf before Ali spoke again. “The princess is the one who requested my presence, and I was with her the entire time. Neither of us expected to end up in the dungeon. And as far as I can see, the princess has excellent judgement. At least she knows that there is no excuse for imprisoning innocent children in such a state, and had the courage to right this wrong.”

“Can you believe the nerve of this man, your majesty?” Achmed’s incredulity was loud and clear. “First he infiltrates your dungeons, then he frees your prisoners, then he tries to justify his actions by telling us the prisoners were innocent despite the fact that your own Royal Vizier has just proved that they were not, and now he blames this—this _treason_ on the princess and expects us to believe that all this was her idea! What does he take us for, simpletons?”

Jasmine stepped out from behind the curtain. She knew that it was time for her to intervene, or Ali might end up in a cell himself, and that was something he really did not deserve.

“He takes you for a man who ought to recognize the truth when it is laid before him,” she said in a loud, clear voice, and all three heads turned toward her.

“Jasmine, my dear.” The Sultan was seated on the throne, straight-backed with tension. “I take it you have heard what we have been discussing?” At Jasmine’s nod, he continued. “Then please, tell us your version of events.”

“I really have nothing to add to Prince Ali’s account, my lord,” Jasmine answered. “He told it true. It was I who asked Prince Ali to accompany me, and when we found ourselves in the dungeon, I asked him to stay. He was with me at all times and he would have left any time I desired it.” Her father nodded, but Achmed snorted in disbelief and she saw Jafar’s mouth tighten at her words. Ali seemed to relax ever so slightly, as though relieved. Did he think that she would side against him after what he had just done for her?

“Jasmine, I know you meant well, but this is highly inappropriate,” her father said. “Taking an honored guest to the dungeons and then asking for his help to free prisoners—”

“Yes, my lord, I know,” Jasmine said, deferring to her father’s concerned admonition. “I should have thought before taking a visitor of the state into a restricted place. I realize that it was a breach of security, but the fault lies with me and me alone.”

The Sultan looked between her and Prince Ali with narrowed eyes. It was clear to Jasmine that he did not quite believe her story, and that he thought there was something else going on here. Thankfully though, he did not pursue the subject. Instead he asked her another question.

“Where are the children now?”

“In my rooms asleep, my lord.”

The Sultan shifted in his seat. “What do you wish done with them?”

“I would keep them with me, Father, and care for them myself.”

Unfortunately, Achmed chose that moment to find his tongue again. “You—take care of them?” he spluttered. “The _princess_ take in two common criminals? You cannot mean that, princess!”

Jasmine’s back stiffened. “I mean every word I have said, Prince Achmed. I wish to give them a real home and raise them as my own.” She turned her head to meet her father’s eyes, to show him her sincerity.

“That is utterly preposterous!”Achmed spat. “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. You cannot have common urchins running about the palace! You should be focused on having your own children, princess. If I were your husband—”

“But you are _not_ my husband, Prince Achmed,” Jasmine spoke over him, “and you might never be. Do not presume to order me about before there is even an agreement of betrothal between us. My father is the only man who may advise me in this matter.”

“For now,” growled Achmed. Jasmine ignored him. She forced herself not to care that he was right, that very soon it would be her husband and not her father that would hold sway over her decisions. She would cross that bridge when she came to it. Right now all she needed was her father’s approval.

“So you truly wish the Sultan to free two prisoners of the crown and let them live in his palace,” Jafar sighed. “Princess, even you must realize how very inappropriate that would be.”

“And what would you do with them, Jafar?” Jasmine asked, anger blazing. “Throw them back in the dungeon for the rest of their lives? Father, these children are innocent. They knew nothing that could have led you to me, and you and I both know that I was not kidnapped as you had feared. _Jafar_ knows this as well, or at least he should after being reprimanded for what he did.”

The Sultan stood from the throne, rising to his full, though not very impressive, height. “I have heard quite enough for one day. Jasmine, your actions today have been irresponsible and reckless. You shall not keep these children as you wish.”

“But Father—”

“Nor shall they return to the dungeon. I am satisfied as to their innocence, and I want you to find a suitable home for them, _outside_ the palace, where they will be well-cared for. Heed my words, daughter, for you have broken several laws today. If you wished the children freed, you should have appealed to me first; I would gladly have looked into the matter. Instead you chose to involve a guest and outsider in internal matters of the governance of this sultanate—a guest who _should_ have known better than to follow you heedlessly into an area that was clearly private. Prince Ali will be confined to his rooms until I have discussed the matter in full with my Royal Vizier.”

At this the Sultan gave Jafar a piercing look that told her that Jafar was not off the hook yet either. Jasmine could see that her father was not at all pleased about the child prisoners. She hoped that he gave Jafar a piece of his mind, as this was now the second grievous offence he had committed against a prisoner of the crown in just the last few weeks. Jasmine wondered if this would be enough to finally show her father how truly evil his Royal Vizier is.

Her father dismissed them, and Prince Ali was escorted out by the guards. Prince Achmed stormed out after them, sending a disgusted glare her way as he went. Jasmine made her way back to her rooms alone, leaving her father and Jafar to talk.

She was disappointed that her father had declined to allow her to take care of Najida and Rami herself. At least he wasn’t sending them back to the dungeon, but Jasmine had never truly believed he would do that. She thought that given time, she might be able to sway her father into allowing the children to stay, but it was not her father she needed to convince. It was her future husband.

Achmed would never be persuaded, that much was clear. He would never allow his wife to go anywhere near common children. He would let her father’s orders stand.

Ali, as usual, was more difficult for her to predict. He seemed better disposed toward the children and plainly felt for them, but that didn’t mean he wanted to take them in. He’d hardly said a word the whole time the rest of them had been talking. Though he had not spoken against her proposal, neither had he supported it.

She felt bad that she had got the prince in trouble. She really hadn’t been thinking, and the man had done the right thing, in her opinion, by helping her free the children. She didn’t think that her father would punish Ali too harshly for their misconduct, but the situation still reminded her uncomfortably of what had happened to Aladdin. He too had paid the price for helping her, for doing the right thing. When would she learn not to act in the heat of the moment and let her emotions get the better of her? It always ended badly for someone else, particularly the people she cared about.

Not that she cared about Ali, of course! She barely knew him, so how could she? And he wasn’t exactly making it easy to get to know him either.

But…

He seemed like a kind and reasonable man so far. He had an interesting view of things, and he appeared to be genuinely interested in what she had to say. Maybe after they were wed, she would get to know him better, and even come to care for him in time.

She remembered her conversation with Fatima just a few hours ago. She didn’t think she could ever find what she had with Aladdin in anyone else. But maybe—just maybe—she could find love again, after a fashion.

She just had to work up the courage to take the chance.


End file.
